Broken
by jane0904
Summary: Next in the Mal/Freya 'verse. It's coming up River's time to give birth, but there's trouble on the horizon before that can happen, and two groups make Mal's day more than a little interesting. Read, review, enjoy! Now COMPLETE but more to come.
1. Chapter 1

_Not too far in the future …_

There was a cupboard on board Serenity where stuff was put. Just stuff. Like when it was broken but maybe someone thought it was too good to be just thrown out with the garbage, or if someone figured maybe it could be fixed one day, then it was put into the cupboard. Once in a while – maybe every six months or so – Mal would go through it, toss what was obviously useless, and shove the rest back.

There were memories in there that he didn't want to lose, but that were too painful to remember all the time, or have on display. Like the dinosaur of Wash's that had somehow ended up in the transfer linkages, and the head got burned off. They hadn't gotten rid of the smell of melted plastic for days, until Kaylee turned up the air scrubbers. Wash had placed the dinosaur in the cupboard himself, and said a little prayer for him. He'd walked away with his head high, a tear glistening, but no-one had ragged on him.

Now River wanted it.

"Broken," she kept saying. "I can't be fixed but too precious to throw away."

Simon crouched down outside the cupboard. "_Mei-mei,_ you have to come out. You're in labour."

---

_But for now, back to the beginning …_

---

Since the encounter with the AI ship, the atmosphere on board Serenity had been somewhat more relaxed than usual, and people seemed to remember there'd been two weddings not that long before. Hank was grinning inanely at everyone until they told him – or at least Mal had – that if he didn't stop he'd got a date with an airlock. Jayne, on the other hand, just looked hunted as River got less and less mobile as she approached her due date, and the crew of Serenity had begun to keep knives and other sharp implements out of her way, particularly after the infamous 'spoon throwing incident'.

"It's all right, _mei-mei_," Simon assured her, grimacing as Zoe removed the offending utensil from his shoulder. "And I need more painkillers."

"But I didn't mean …" River was wringing her hands. "It shouldn't have …"

"A straw can go through a tree if thrown with sufficient force," Zoe said, staunching the wound with one hand and injecting Simon with more drugs with the other as Kaylee fluttered around her wounded husband. "Seen it on a moon called …" She stopped, her brow wrinkling. "What was it, now?"

"You thinking about that storm we was in?" Mal asked, standing solidly with his arms crossed. "Damn, that was windy. Thought we were all gonna be blown to the hot place."

Zoe looked at him. "What was it called?"

"Garamond? Garahill?" He shrugged. "Gara something."

"Garabrook," Zoe said suddenly, it coming to her.

"That was it."

"Excuse me?" Simon put in. "Bleeding here?"

"Oh, sorry." Zoe dabbed at the cut. "Anyway, the wind was so powerful it pushed a twig right the way through Sorenson's arm."

Mal laughed. "Never did hear a man swear quite so much. And it was his own fault. Shouldn't have been waving at that girl."

"That girl was his lieutenant," Zoe pointed out, pulling the blood-stained pad away. "And he was drunk."

"I seem to recall he always was. I doubt there was a day went by that man didn't – "

"Blood?" Simon interrupted. "Pain?"

Mal couldn't help the smile that crept across his face. "Always did say doctors made the worse patients."

"I could die of septicaemia here, you know."

Kaylee gasped.

"The spoon was clean," River said softly.

"And it'll make a pretty scar," Zoe added, putting her head on one side. "Sort of … crescent-shaped." She smiled. "Hey, you could always get Jayne to make it into a moon for you. You know, tattoo it."

"S'an idea," the big man said from his position in the doorway of the infirmary.

Simon glared at both of them. "No."

"Just a suggestion."

Simon looked back at River. "I only said I thought you needed to consider having a caesarean," he went on, oblivious to the sudden fury on his sister's face.

"No!" she shouted, stamping her foot and making everyone in the infirmary freeze as images of dead Reavers played across all imaginations.

"Hey, now, albatross," Mal said gently. "He wasn't trying to make you angry."

"Not cutting me open. Told you."

"And I explained –" Simon began again.

"No!"

Jayne managed to catch the doctor's eye, and by sheer strength of will stopped the young man from making an even bigger mistake by saying another word.

Freya nodded slightly, and put in, "River, why don't you and I go and make some tea?"

"Tea?" The young woman looked sharply at her. "Is that supposed to distract me?"

"Yes."

River smiled suddenly. "All right."

The two women linked arms, and walked slowly up the stairs.

"No spoons!" they heard Simon's voice as they disappeared around the corner.

"Doc, you ain't got the brains you were born with," Jayne said, pushing off from the wall and approaching the bed.

"I'm worried about her." That much was evident since he didn't even blink when Zoe injected near the wound with a local anaesthetic.

"I know that. Hell, we're all knowing that, doc. But you gotta let me handle it."

"You?"

"She's my wife. I'll talk to her. Get her to see something approaching reason." Jayne shook his head. "Ya gotta understand, she ain't exactly all there. Even less right now. And it takes something more'n just being logical with her." He sighed. "And I'm the one supposed to be a dumb ox."

"I just want her to understand –"

"She does," Jayne interrupted. "Only she's scared, 'cause she knows what cutting on folks does."

"I don't intend going anywhere near her brain, Jayne," Simon pointed out, then flinched as Zoe dug the needle deeper.

"She don't see it like that. It's cutting, one way or the other. But I'll deal. Not you. Not your place anymore."

"She's my sister!"

"And she's my wife. For better, for worse. And that's my kid she's carrying, unless she's been up to something I don't know about." For some reason he glanced at Mal, who tried to look affronted. "But the point is, I'll talk to her. She'll come around." He drew himself up. "Now, if you'll all excuse me, I intend to go have tea with my River." Jayne glared once more at the doctor, then strode out of the infirmary.

"Did I just see Jayne being all reasonable and grown up?" Mal said softly to Hank, listening to his mercenary's footsteps dwindle up the stairs.

"Must've been one of them optical illusions," the pilot said. "You know, one of them pictures where you have to screw your eyes up and you see an elephant or something."

"That must be it."

---

"I've changed my mind."

"What?" Jayne sat up in bed, rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his hands. "What?"

"Changed my mind," River repeated more firmly.

He glanced at the clock." You got any idea what time it is?"

"Time is a vestigial mode of measurement based on solar cycles …"

"That's as maybe, but … what've you changed your mind about?"

"This baby." She lay back on the pillow and put her hand on her distended belly. "I don't want it."

Now she really had his attention. "What?" His voice made the superstructure ring.

"Too loud," she murmured.

"What?" he asked again, stupidly but at least at a more reasonable level. "You don't want my kid?"

She looked at him, then at her stomach, then back up. "Sorry. I put it wrong. I meant I don't want to give birth."

He relaxed just a fraction. "River, honey, you have to. That little feller needs to –"

"He's quite happy." She patted the child inside her. "And so am I. He can stay inside."

"That ain't how it works."

"It is if I choose."

He moved around on the bed so he could look directly into her face. "Nobody can do that. And it'd be real messy if you tried." He attempted another tack. "'Sides, you ain't comfortable."

"Am too."

"Am not, and I ain't getting into this argument with you. I'm bigger'n you and I can –"

"Can't."

"River."

The look in his eyes, the tone of his voice, even his body language, made her subside a little. "Not ready," she admitted in a small voice.

He sighed and laid down next to her, wrapping his arm around her. "It's your bro, ain't it? Talking about cutting you."

She shuddered. "Don't want him to."

"I know that. Hell, I figured he knows that now, after what you did earlier. But if it comes to it, if there ain't no choice –"

"I am very flexible," she pointed out. "My body is responsive, and the ligaments have been stretching to allow passage of the head –"

"Riv, I know you're flexible. Couldn't live with you and not know that." His mind flashed to some of the things they'd done before she was pregnant, and even some they'd done after. She giggled, and he blushed just a little. "But the point is Simon's got your best interests at heart. You and my son. Don't want nothing happening to either of you, _bao bei_." He pulled her closer. "Not to my wife."

She luxuriated in the warmth of him for a moment, then said, "So you're putting your foot down."

"I am."

"As my husband?"

He felt a thrill as she said the word. "Damn straight."

"I could still hurt you."

"You could, but no more'n if anything went wrong when you were birthing." He squeezed her gently. "And I ain't going back on it."

"Will you be there? If he does?" She slipped her arm around him, feeling his lungs expand, his heart beat.

"Ain't intending being anywhere else." He moved one hand to lay it on her belly. "Wanna meet this get of mine. And I aim to."

"Not long," River said, closing her eyes.

"Nope. Not long at all." Jayne lay in the dark until he felt her drift into sleep, then lay awake himself for hours, worrying.


	2. Chapter 2

"You okay?" Mal asked, peering at Freya as he pulled his pants up, tucking his shirt in and buttoning them tightly around his hips.

She lay on the bed, one arm across her eyes. "I just feel … odd."

He sat down next to her, moving her arm so he could touch her forehead. "You don't feel hot." Stroking her cheek he added, "You want me to get Simon to come and look at you?"

"No, no," she said, shaking her head. "I think I'll just sleep for a while. It's probably nothing." She smiled tiredly at him. "Probably just the imminent arrival of Baby Cobb."

"Baby Cobb," Mal repeated. "That sounds enough to make anyone feel ill."

She slapped his thigh. "It's not as bad as that."

"I know. And I wouldn't be surprised if you were picking up something." He pushed her hair out of her face. "They thought about a name yet?"

"No-one's said."

"That wasn't what I asked."

"And I haven't looked."

"No?"

She slapped him again, this time on the arm. "No."

"You know, I'm gonna have to be called one of them battered husbands, you keep doing that." He rubbed the sore spot.

"Sorry." She reached up enough so that she could put a kiss on the offended portion of his anatomy, the sheet sliding off her upper half as she did so.

"And you keep doing that and I'll be considering a lay-in myself," he pointed out.

"You can't," she said, putting her head back on the pillow. "You've got Sullivan to deal with."

"He'll be fine."

"Taking Jayne?"

"And Zoe. I ain't stupid."

She grinned at him. "I know that."

"At least Bethie seems to get the whole process now." Mal picked up his boots, pulling them on over his thick socks, as he went back to the original topic.

"That was sweet, though." Freya sighed happily.

"You didn't have to explain it to her." Mal shuddered as he remembered the time that seemed like only yesterday but was probably more like a couple of years, when Bethany had the wrong end of the stick.

"_Bethany?" Mal looked into the storage locker that had been dubbed 'Eden'._

"_Uncle Mal." The little girl was sitting on the floor, a number of her toys arranged around her, all facing the large, earth-filled tanks._

"_What are you doing here?" he asked._

"_Waiting."_

"_For what?"_

"_Babies."_

"_Um … babies?"_

"_For them to grow."_

_Mal sat down next to her, his back protesting just a little. "What do you mean, pumpkin?"_

"_River planted seeds. She told me. So now I'm waiting."_

_Seeds. Planting. "Ah."_

"_Uncle Jayne said -"_

"_Uncle Jayne oughtta sometimes think before he speaks," Mal muttered. The man had opened his mouth and told Bethie that babies came from seeds planted in their mother's tummies. And Bethie was all of two, with a very literal view of things._

"_You mean he wasn't telling the truth?" Bethie asked, turning large, somewhat moist eyes on him. "Uncle Jayne was lying?" Her bottom lip began to quiver._

"_Well, no, not quite … but …" Mal was floundering. "Bethie, I think maybe you'd better talk to your Pa about this."_

"And you weren't the one to explain anything," Freya pointed out.

"No, but –"

"And even Simon got out of it."

"Yeah, but –"

"Kaylee had to do it."

"I know! But I was there when Bethie came out with it at the dinner table." He shuddered again.

"We all were." Freya laughed. "She remembered everything really well."

"In explicit detail," Mal agreed, standing up. "Least she ain't doing that at the moment."

"Give it time," his wife said, covering her eyes again with her arm. "Give it time."

---

Bethany very carefully drew another large, thick, black 'X' through yesterday's date, then eagerly counted all the remaining ones until the square outlined in red with pretty pink and blue flowers all around it.

"So how many to go, sweetie?" her mother asked, busy making breakfast.

The little girl grinned. "Six!" Recapping the pen she put it back on the counter.

"That's right."

"Can't wait." She bounced up and down a little.

"Well, not long now."

"Nope."

Fiddler scratched himself under the table, then snuffled loudly around his rear end.

"He keeps doing that he's gonna be kept out of here," Mal said darkly, stepping down into the galley, Jesse in his arms, Ethan at his side.

"He itches," Bethie explained, smiling at him and showing all her teeth.

"You mean he's got fleas?" Mal glanced down, his voice a little higher than normal.

Bethie was indignant. "Of course not. Daddy keeps him 'tected."

"Protected, honey," Kaylee automatically corrected.

She ignored her mother. "Anyway, he just itches." She looked Mal directly in the eye. "_You_ scratch when you itch."

"Not under the dining table I don't."

"Well, there was that time –" Kaylee began, but stopped when she caught the glare thrown her way. "Time for breakfast," she said brightly.

Ethan ran over to the calendar, then turned to look accusingly at Bethie. "You did it," he said.

"Did what?" she asked, looking innocent as only a four year old could.

"It was my turn!" The little boy put his fists on his hips.

"Then you can do it tomorrow," Kaylee said placatingly. "And the day after."

"But it's my turn tomorrow," Bethie began. "And that means he gets two goes –"

"Like you did yesterday and today," Mal put in, sitting Jesse down next to him in the high chair. "So Ethan gets two goes. Fair's fair."

Ethan grinned at his father, then stuck his tongue out at Bethie. "See?"

She swiped at him.

"No!" Kaylee said loudly. "No fighting. Or no breakfast."

"Momma …" Bethie began to wheedle. "Hungry."

"Then sit down and be good."

The little girl pouted, but climbed into her chair. Ethan hurried around to the other side of the table, keeping out of the way of Bethie's kicking feet.

Mal crossed to the counter to help dish up.

"You get the impression there's more fighting going on right now?" Kaylee asked quietly as she spooned hot cereal into bowls.

"I think River's having an effect on folks. Frey's staying in bed for a while, for a start."

"She okay?"

"Just feeling a bit odd, according to her."

"Do you want me to ask Simon to look in on her?"

Mal nodded. "I'd take it as a kindness. She said no, but …"

"Sure."

"Joshua Cobb." Hank followed Ben into the dining area, watching him carefully as he negotiated the steps. "Or Malachi."

"Which would be shortened to Mal, and that'd just makes things confusing." Zoe was a pace behind him.

"True. Then how about Daniel?" He grinned at the others. "Morning."

"I take it this is a discussion over possible baby names?" Mal asked, taking the bowls back to the table and putting one down in front of each of his children. Ethan immediately reached for the sweetener. "Just like your mother," Mal went on quietly, smiling nevertheless. "Like way too much of that stuff on your cereal."

Jesse eyed her breakfast with something approaching distrust, then picked up her spoon and began to stir it diligently. She'd burned her mouth a little some weeks before, and she was determined not to do it again.

Hank grinned, picking Ben up to put into his seat. "Yeah, baby names. Well, Jayne'n River've been pretty tight-lipped as to whether they've decided or not. So we were coming up with a few. Just to be helpful."

"Any particular reason why they're all from the Bible?" Mal sat down and took the sweetener off his son to sprinkle lightly across his own food.

"I don't know." Hank took the bowls offered him by Kaylee. "Seemed appropriate."

"For Jayne."

"Still seemed right." The pilot grinned. "'Sides, there's nothing wrong with Bible names. It's a good source."

"I'm not sure I've read about too many _Hanks_ in the good book." He took a mouthful of cereal.

"And you've read it all? Cover to cover?"

Mal pointed at him with his spoon. "I have. My Momma was a regular church-goer. And I went with her."

"Oh." Hank looked a little ashamed. "Well, there's no _Malcolms_ in there either."

"Old name, though," Zoe put in, trying to ease the slight tension building. "And it is religious. Means a follower of St Columba."

"Who?" Hank turned to stare at her, even as Mal raised an eyebrow.

"An ancient saint from Earth-that-was," she explained.

"And you know that … how?" Serenity's captain asked.

"I was on late watch and … I was bored."

"Oh, the Cortex has a lot to answer for," Hank muttered.

"Yeah, like horror vids," Mal said.

Hank quickly went on, "So did you look up _Zoe_? I mean, what your name means?"

"Life. It means life."

He smiled widely. "That's my wife."

"Jesse, honey, that's cool enough now," Kaylee said, sitting down and placing bowls in front of herself and Bethie, who as usual attacked her food with gusto. "Slowly, sweetie. Or you'll give yourself indigestion."

"Yes, Momma," Bethie said, slowing for a nanosecond before shovelling it in just as quick.

Kaylee shook her head. "I'll tell your Daddy to have something ready."

Bethie grinned, oat cereal adhering to her teeth.

"Where is Simon?" Zoe asked. "It's not like him to be late for breakfast."

"Hope wanted to dress herself, so he's supervising." Kaylee laughed. "Could be a while."

"You noticed how all the kids on this boat are very forward?" Hank commented. "Something in the air, you suppose?"

"It's having such great role models," Mal said, lifting Jesse's hand out of her breakfast where she'd decided it was easier to eat with her fingers. He wiped it on the cloth he kept ready in his pocket, then picked up the spoon to give back to her, but Jesse opened her mouth ready. He sighed and poked a spoonful of breakfast inside, watching his daughter chew happily.

"Oh, that I can see," Hank agreed. "And where are the expectant couple? Seems half the crew's missing."

"Frey's feeling fragile, and Jayne took some breakfast into River 'fore any of you got here." Kaylee shook her head. "Doubt she'll be getting out of bed much in the next few days."

"As long as Jayne realises we're landing on Marley in about an hour." Mal looked at Hank. "I'm presuming we're still on schedule."

"Hour and ten," the pilot confirmed.

"He's needed to look intimidating."

"Oh, I think he'll be there," Kaylee put in. "Look he had on his face, I think he'd quite like to kill something."

---

"It's an easy pick-up from Bernadette, then deliver to Argus," Sullivan said, wiping his sweating face with his red handkerchief then thrusting it back into his pocket. It was early summer as they stood some miles outside of Boscombe, the major town – the _only_ town – on Marley, and the heat sat like a blanket over everything. Even Mal, who didn't seem to perspire much, was aware of his shirt sticking to his back, and knew there were large damp marks under his arms. Jayne was just a heap of wet T and combat pants, grumbling like a bear. Only Zoe looked unruffled except for a line of tiny droplets on her top lip.

No-one knew how Sullivan stood it, considering his girth, but he didn't seem disposed to move away, despite his wealth.

"Legal?"

"Hardly. Two crates of power packs, fully charged, so they need to be kept well away from anything metal."

"Sullivan, my whole ship's metal."

"Then your mechanic'll have to make sure they ain't likely to come to harm." He looked hopeful. "That still little Kaylee?"

"It is."

"Next time, you bring her with you. She always brightens the day."

"It likely to get us a bigger cut?"

Sullivan backtracked a little. "Now, Mal, you know I got overheads –"

"And underheads, and sideways … yeah, I know the drill." He shook his head. "Kaylee stays on board. With her husband. And her kids."

"She's just so pretty to look at. Makes a man's blood run hot, you know what I mean?"

Jayne growled, his hand very close to his gun.

"Sullivan, you'd better start talking about the job and not my mechanic, or I'll just be ornery enough to let him loose," Mal said, almost conversationally.

"Job. Yes." Sullivan cleared his throat. "Anyway, like I said, two crates of packs, and another of stabilisers."

"How big?"

"Usual."

Mal nodded slowly. "Alliance?"

"Possibly. At some point."

"So it's keeping under the radar?"

"Well, I don't think you'll be wanting to advertise it, no. And I'd rather you didn't get pinched in the process."

"Why, Sullivan, I didn't know you cared."

"I don't." He dragged the kerchief out of his pocket again. "But I've got a reputation, and I mean to keep it."

"So do I." Mal stood up straighter. "And the Bernadette pick-up?"

Sullivan suddenly wouldn't meet his eyes. "Ah, you just need to get them out of the warehouse."

Mal glanced at Zoe, saw the same disgust in her eyes as he had in his own. "Sully, you ain't telling me something."

"Don't call me that, Mal," Sullivan pleaded.

"I'll tell everyone what you used to be if you don't tell me the truth. Sully."

Sullivan sighed, making the hot air around him move in little eddies. "Well, there's just a small hitch."

Mal glared at him. "The kind where my people get shot? Or worse, me?"

"No! Well, maybe."

"Which is it, Sully?"

The big man winced again. "Maybe. The goods are safe, but they're kind of being held to ransom by some unscrupulous types who say I owe them money."

"Do you?"

Sullivan twitched. "No."

"Care to try that again?"

"Damn it, Mal, yes, but they didn't do the job they were hired for, so they didn't get paid. Not like you," he added quickly. "You always do the job. That's why I know you can do this."

"Another fifty."

Sullivan's eyes widened. "Now, Mal, you can't –"

"Another fifty. And if you try and wheedle out, it gets to be another seventy-five."

"Mal –"

"In advance."

"Mal –"

"Seven-"

"Okay, okay!" Sullivan reached into his jacket, then almost jumped out of his skin as he saw Jayne's hand land on the butt of his pistol. "Just getting the cash out!"

"Jayne," Mal said quietly.

The big man muttered something under his breath, but settled back.

Sullivan counted off a number of notes, handing them over to Mal as if he were giving his own children away, then adding a single sheet of paper, folded four times. "These are the details."

Mal smiled, tucking the money and the sheet into his pants. "Sully, nice to be doing business with you."

"Sullivan, please, Mal."

"Of course."

They watched as the fat man waddled away, heading for his ground car which sped away as soon as he had levered himself inside.

"Glad River ain't taken it into her mind to come out here," Jayne grunted, pulling his T off over his head and wiping at his face with it.

"Put that back on," Mal said, but only mildly, feeling happy with money in his pocket and a job to be done. He started back towards Serenity, knowing they were keeping abreast of him.

"Ain't no-one around gonna see." Jayne slung the wet fabric over his shoulder and looked at the landscape around them. He was right. Yellow sand, yellow rocks, grey trees … and not a soul in sight.

"Sir, Bernadette's a day away, and Argus another three after that," Zoe pointed out. "We'll be hard pushed to get to Lazarus in time for River."

Mal's brows drew down. "Hadn't considered that," he said thoughtfully. "But we got the coin for more fuel if we need to go to burn. Thanks to Sully." He patted his pocket.

"River ain't fussed." Jayne shrugged. "She said she'd as like the baby born in space, since that's home. S'only Inara who'll get cranky if she ain't there."

Now Mal smiled. "Cranky. Yeah, well, Inara's had enough practice of that where we're concerned."

"She ain't the only one," Jayne added, but so quietly no-one else heard.


	3. Chapter 3

Jayne stared at the rear of the warehouse, the spitting image of the one he was leaning against in the deep shadows as he pulled his coat a little tighter. Concepcion, the second biggest town on Bernadette, and main spaceport, was heading into winter, and the air was chilly.

Mal had told him to keep watch around the back, see if he could figure out how many men were inside, but there was no sign of anyone at all. He grunted, his breath crystallising in front of him. He just wanted to get inside, get the goods, and get back to Serenity. He didn't like leaving River like this, not so close to her time. He was more than a bit worried about her too. He'd woken up that during the small hours of the morning to find her sitting on the floor sorting through his ammo, putting it into order of size and weight, and apparently stopping power as well.

He hadn't said anything, just watched her for a while until she'd finished and put it all away again, then he'd got up, lifted her into his arms and put her back to bed. She'd slipped into dreams quickly enough, as if that action of making sure things were right had soothed her, but it hadn't him. He'd waited until something more like a civilised hour then got up and fetched breakfast. River hadn't said a word about the ammo, and he wondered if she'd even really been awake.

Still, did that make it better or worse? Playing with the ammo was just a short step from playing with the guns, his or hers, and a not much longer one to going shooting someone in their sleep. Maybe he should consider locking the shuttle door 'til the baby was born. Least at night. Not that locks ever kept River in or out, and it wouldn't stop her if she took it into her head to shoot him.

He glared out into the weak sunlight, his hand flexing over his gun. He really needed to be killing something right about now.

---

"River, _mei-mei_, what are you doing?" Simon stepped into the infirmary, surprised to see his sister up and about.

"Checking." She had the entire contents of one of the cupboards laid out on the counter, and had arranged them, he noticed, in alphabetical as well as size order.

"Checking? Why?"

"That we have everything we need." She moved one of the packs of swabs slightly so that it was more perfectly aligned with the others, leaning sideways to avoid her swollen stomach pressing against metal.

"Do you think I've forgotten something?" Simon asked, moving closer to her, a faint thread of worry that perhaps there was something missing running down the back of his neck.

"No. But I had to check." She exhaled in a satisfactory fashion and smiled brilliantly at him. "Everything here." She began to put the boxes and packs back, making sure they were in the correct places.

"That's … that's good," Simon said, putting out a hand to help her.

She swatted it away. "I'll do it."

"I can help."

"I'll do it." She glared at him, then slid the box of emergency pads back into its space. She closed the door, then turned and smiled at him. "All done."

"All?" He glanced at the other cupboards, the drawers …

"I did those before you came in," she admitted.

"Even the -"

"All the scalpels are in correct order of size and use. I have put the ones in need of sharpening in that box to that you can do it when you have time." She nodded towards a small case on the far counter.

"That's nice." River handling all his scalpels … it made his skin itch, and he touched the healing wound on his shoulder.

"I am sorry about that," she said, noticing. "I wasn't thinking."

"That's all right." He managed a smile. "I shouldn't have been pushing you."

"And I will try not to hurt you again." She patted him on the arm and waddled out of the infirmary, one hand in the small of her back. "Now I need to check Jayne's weights," she murmured quietly.

Simon watched her pull herself up the steps towards the cargo bay, then glanced back warily at the box of surgical knives.

---

Mal peered at the front door of the warehouse, only half his mind on the matter in hand. He'd had a dream just before waking, and it was one of those he couldn't get out of his brain, despite his desperate attempts to. It was also more than a little awkward that the object of his dream was standing right next to him.

"Sir?" Zoe said, noting his distraction.

"Huh? Oh. Yeah." He scanned the area again, then pulled back into the shadows. "Nothing that I can see."

"Maybe we should get Jayne to take a look inside," his first mate suggested. "Seeing as he's pretty quiet when he wants to be."

"I guess." But he didn't move, didn't take the com from his pocket.

"So … you want me to tell him, sir?" Zoe finally asked.

"What? Oh, yeah." He shook himself. "No. I'll do it." He pulled the link out. "Jayne, see if you can get a look inside, _dong mah_?"

"_Dang rahn_." The big man's voice echoed tinnily from the small device.

"Sir, is there a problem I don't know about?" Zoe glanced out into the street, but there was nothing to see. "Only you've been somewhat preoccupied since breakfast."

"Problem?" Mal shook his head. "No, no problem."

"Right." Zoe took a moment. "So you didn't have that dream either."

Mal jumped. "What? What dream?"

She had to smile. "So did I, sir."

His eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

"Really."

"And it didn't …" He stopped, unsure of what to say next.

"Make me uncomfortable?"

"Well, yes." His mind replayed the dream in all its glorious technicolour, from the appearance of his oldest friend in his decidedly Freya-free bunk dressed in little more than a few scraps of leather, dangling a pair of handcuffs from the fingers of one hand, to the finale that had him waking in a cold sweat, checking to make sure he wasn't still manacled to the bulkhead. He squirmed a little.

"A little. But I know it was just a dream."

"Didn't realise you had it too."

"From what Hank said, I'd have to guess that most everyone did. Well, maybe not this particular pairing, but … Hank said his was with Inara."

"Really." Mal nodded his head slowly. "And did he … give any details?"

"Leather and handcuffs."

The squirming became a little more pronounced. "Really."

"I think you're gonna kind of wear that word out, sir."

"Rea –" He stopped and coughed instead. He was Captain. He should be able to deal with something like this. "So you think it's River?" he asked, looking serious.

"I wouldn't be surprised. She's been acting a little odd lately, anyway."

"Odder than usual?"

"She arranged all the dinosaurs in order of size on the bridge. And colour."

"That was her?"

"I think she's trying to keep control."

Mal hitched his thumbs into his gunbelt. "Must be hard for her. It was bad enough for Frey, hormones and all, but for River, not exactly being sane in the first place …"

"That's what she has the rest of us for. And Jayne."

"Yeah. Guess it is." He glanced out into the empty street again. "Zoe, you know me and you … I mean, I ain't never … well, hardly ever … I mean, you're a damn fine looking woman, and I'd have to be dead not to notice … but I –"

She was amused to see him more than a little self-conscious. "No, Mal. I never thought we were suited to each other." She couldn't help the smile. "You ain't my type."

"What?" His voice raised an octave, then he coughed and brought it back under control. "What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

"Then why –"

"Is this really the conversation you want to be having at this time?" she asked, trying not to laugh and nodding behind him.

He half-turned to see Freya strolling up. "Ah, no. Probably not." He straightened up. "Hey."

Freya smiled at him. "Hi."

"Anything?"

"Nary a thing. There's four horses tied up round the side, but no sign of anyone else."

"Four, huh." Mal pursed his lips slightly. "Evens the odds."

"That it does." She leaned on the wall, apparently staring out at the warehouse. "Handcuffs, eh?"

This time both Mal _and_ Zoe jerked as if they'd been stung.

"Frey, I –" Mal's probably somewhat hamfisted attempts to explain were interrupted by the comlink buzzing. He flicked the button, never more happy to hear the big mercenary's voice. "Jayne."

"Four, Mal. Two just inside the main door, two more playing cards in the office."

"Where're you?"

"Back outside."

"You see the crates?"

"Yeah, right in the centre of the building. Gonna take two of us to move the stabilisers, though. And we ain't gonna be able to creep up on 'em."

Mal pondered. "Okay. You stay put. I'll let you know what and when."

"'Kay."

The comlink went silent.

"Do you have a plan, sir?" Zoe asked.

"I think I have the inkling of one, yeah." A grin began to form on his face.

Zoe and Freya exchanged glances. This didn't sound like it was going to go smooth.

---

Kaylee lay under the engine housing pottering happily. Things were going right with her girl, now that she'd had a chance to do some work on her back on Persephone, and with just a little tweak here and there Serenity would be back up to her normal running strength. She hummed something tunelessly, her mind wandering between the coppice-lock she was tightening, and wondering how the job was going.

She'd always maintained the Cap was good at planning. No matter what anyone else said, his plans were good. Just 'cause people didn't do what he expected, or intended, that wasn't his fault. The plan was always … good. Besides, she quite liked Sullivan. He'd always been attentive when she was around, and although he wasn't her type at all it was nice to be flattered occasionally.

Not that she knew who her type was. She'd never been conscious of only liking one kinda man. Dray Buchanan, for instance, was dark and stockyish, while Bester had been blond and tattooed. She paused in her work, thinking back on the mechanic. Not that he'd been any good with engines, she considered. Didn't even know it was the right couple that'd gone, not the grav boot. But that didn't matter. He'd known what to do with –

A noise made her sit up, resting on her elbows.

"Hello?" she called. No-one answered, but the small sounds she'd heard continued. Pulling herself out from under the housing, she saw River taking down all of her tools from the wall. "Honey?"

"Just making things right," the young woman said.

Kaylee got to her feet and crossed the room. "They were okay, River. I take good care of my tools. Can't fix Serenity if you don't."

River didn't look at her, just starting sorting through the different sized wrenches, hammers and spanners. "But they have to be neat. Ordered. Make sure none of them are damaged, or broken, or need to be –"

Kaylee reached across and put her hands on River's. "No, you just leave 'em. They're okay. None of 'em are –"

She didn't see it happen, but suddenly she was falling backwards, pushed violently away from the tool bench. Scrabbling to retain her footing, she couldn't and fell hard onto the decking, jarring her shoulder on the housing. She yelled, and that seemed to bring River to her senses.

"Kaylee?" The young psychic looked around. "Kaylee!" Her hands flew to her mouth, and she tried to reach down to help her friend up.

"No, you can't," Kaylee said quickly. "Not in your condition." She tried to stand up, to lever herself to her feet, but the pain in her shoulder made her cry out again and she fell back.

River backed away, murmuring continuously, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry –"

"Honey, can you call Simon?" Kaylee ground out through gritted teeth. "I think I need him."

River didn't move, but behind her Kaylee could see Hank coming up the corridor.

"Kaylee? You okay?" he asked, then saw the pain on her face. "_Wu de mah_." He moved River out of the way and ran to the com. "Simon! Need you in the engine room. Now!"


	4. Chapter 4

Freya undid another button on her shirt and glared up at Mal. "That's it."

"Just one –" He reached his hands up towards her cleavage then stopped at the look on her face and let them drop again. "Okay. Should be enough."

"The rate you were going I'd be walking across there naked," she grumbled.

"Be a good decoy, though, wouldn't it?" He grinned at her, but it didn't make much of a dent in her currently less than sunny disposition.

Unstrapping her gunbelt she handed it to Zoe. "Better take this now," she said quietly. "Before I decide to shoot him." Then she slid the gun from its holster and pushed it well down into the waistband at the back of her pants. "Don't really feel like going out there unarmed."

"Where are the horses?" the other woman asked.

"Left hand side."

"Right. Give me a couple." She melted into the shadows, leaving the two of them alone.

Freya very deliberately turned her back on her husband, staring out at the warehouse across the empty street.

The silence was deafening for a minute, then Mal said, "I … that dream …"

"I know."

"I don't feel that way about Zoe. Just so's you know."

"I'm aware of that."

"Only I wondered if you'd … you know, since Zoe and Hank …"

"Simon."

"What?"

"Simon. I dreamed about Simon."

"Oh." He stared down at his boots, idly noting they were in need of a polish. "Simon."

"And handcuffs." She glanced back at him, but looked away before he could lift his head. "I have to say, though, he looked quite fetching in the leather shorts."

His chin jerked up. "Shorts?"

"Very short shorts. More like a belt, really. With a pouch."

"A –"

"Pouch. Lined with fur, if I recall correctly." She sighed, although he couldn't tell if it was in pleased recollection or not. "Certainly had stamina."

"Freya!"

She couldn't keep it up, but turned to look at him, her lips curving. "It was only a dream, Mal. That's all. And I seem to recall you saying once that a person shouldn't be blamed for what they dream."

"Well, no more they should. But you didn't have to sound so … happy about it."

She chuckled. "And you should have told me when you woke up."

"You didn't tell me," he pointed out.

"Probably because I wasn't embarrassed by it. You could hardly get out of the bunk fast enough."

"I was not embarrassed!"

"Then why didn't you tell me? Did you honestly think I'd believe you wanted Zoe like that?" She reached out and touched his arm, letting her fingers caress his bicep.

"I … truth to tell, I didn't know. That green-eyed monster of yours surely came to the fore over Inara, and I didn't –"

"Not the same, Mal," she said, tightening her grip just a little. "You were in love with Inara."

"Yeah, well, I wasn't sure you weren't gonna get the same wrong impression over Zoe."

"Do you think I want Simon?" Freya countered.

A hunted look crossed his eyes. "Well –"

"You did." She was surprised, and a little shocked. "You thought I wanted to take our young doctor to bed."

"It was a long time ago!" Mal insisted. "Back when you first came on board, and you both seemed to be spending so much time together, and you got along, and I felt …" His voice died away.

She stepped closer to him, her warmth coming not just from the exposed flesh at her neckline but from her whole body, reaching out to him. "You're a boob."

"Maybe I am. But I was scared, okay?"

"That I might decide to run off with him?" Now there were only clothes between them. "I love _you_, Malcolm Reynolds. And I don't want anyone else. Ever. Not if they had the best body in the 'verse – and I have to say Simon's takes some beating –" She yelped as he pinched her. "You're the man I love. The man I married. The man who's fool enough to think I'd be jealous of a dream."

He lowered his lips until they were only just above hers. "It was a good dream."

"Just be glad you weren't dreaming about Jayne."

Mal stopped, and she could read the run of his thoughts in his eyes without having to look into his mind at all. "That's …"

"Yeah. Sorry. And I'm glad it wasn't him. But you're right. It was a good dream. You're better, though."

"You too." They kissed lightly, just touching. "So … who do you think Simon dreamed about?"

"Me, I think. At least from the way he wouldn't meet my eyes this morning."

"Hmmn. Might have to torture that young man some when we get back."

"Don't you dare."

"So you think there's like to be more of these dreams?"

Freya shrugged, her breasts moving visibly through the opening in her shirt. "Probably. Until River gives birth."

"Can we help her at all?"

"I'll talk to her when we get back." She glanced over her shoulder. "_If_ we get back. Haven't we got a job to do?"

"That we have." Carefully, letting his fingers ghost across her skin, he did the buttons back up on her shirt. "Don't need to be showing all that to someone else," he said softly, then lifted the comunit to his lips. "Zoe? Jayne? Time."

---

"You've dislocated your shoulder, Kaylee," Simon said, straining to keep his natural concern for his wife out of his tone. "I'll give you some painkillers, and a sedative, then Hank and I'll put it back."

"We will?" Hank took a step back, his voice so high pitched he was sure no-one heard him except dogs.

"I can't wait for the others to get back." Simon glanced at him. "Don't worry. I'll be doing most of the work. You'll be fine."

"Oh, shiny." He sounded even less convinced.

Simon exhaled slowly. "Hank, honestly, you're probably the last person I'd ask, but right now I don't have a choice. If we delay there could be swelling and that will make it harder in the long run." He prepared a hypo. "You just do what I tell you, and I promise I'll give you a smoother after."

"You may have to."

"Hadn't someone better look after River?" Kaylee managed to say, breathing hard in an effort to control the trembling that was running through her. She had her left arm cradled in her right, and every movement was agony.

Simon glanced out into the common area where his sister was pacing up and down. He shook his head. "You're the important one at the moment, _bao bei_," he said softly.

"Oh. 'Kay." For a moment she forgot the pain, just revelled in the fact that her husband was putting her first. Then she twisted slightly and her face screwed up as she tried not to cry.

"This will help," Simon said, quickly injecting her with the hypo.

"Thanks." She smiled weakly for him.

"Auntie River?"

Hank heard a little voice outside in the common area, and turned to see Ethan looking at the young woman, his stuffed alligator clutched to his chest.

She stopped her pacing to stare at him. "My fault," she whispered.

He held out his hand. "Bethie said you should come play with us for a while."

She gazed at him, and the short hairs at the nape of Hank's neck stood on end. He got to the door just as River slid her pale fingers into the little boy's, and he led her towards the lower crew quarters.

"Make sure everything's okay, then come back," Simon requested, torn between concern for his sister and his wife, who was even now beginning to smile lopsidedly at him.

"Will do," Hank said, stepping out into the common area.

"Just like his Pa," Kaylee said, her speech thickening slightly. "D'ya see that? Lookin' out for us. Jus' like Mal." Her drug-induced good humour dimmed a little. "Shouldn't be so serious, though. 'S a little boy." She tapped Simon's arm with her good hand. "Needs ta be a li'l boy. Bet his Pa looked jus' like that." In the mercurial moodshift of the medicated, she laughed. "Hey, Simon, 's good stuff. 'M I gonna get a hangover? Almost as good as my interengine fumen – farmu – my wine."

"No hangover, I promise." He smiled at her, then glanced out of the door.

"Be okay," Kaylee promised, patting him again. "S'just River."

---

Hank watched as Ethan led River into Bethie's room, pushing the door across but not closing it entirely. He could just see enough to know that the little girl had got out all of her dolls and toys, making a great heap of them on the bed, and now stood next to it, Fiddler at her feet.

"Auntie River," she said, sounding very grown up. "Can you help? They're got all messy and I've got to sort them out before they can be put away."

River seemed to relax before Hank's eyes. Her hands unclasped and the tension in her shoulders dissipated. "Of course, Bethie," she said, picking up the green toy called _Jayne_. "Start biggest to smallest."

"Then colours," Bethie suggested.

"Type," River went on.

"All teddies together," Ethan put in.

"All teddies together," River echoed, smiling at him, and began to sort.

Hank shook his head. He shouldn't be surprised that Bethie would know exactly how to calm her aunt, but he was. She just needed to put things in their rightful place, he figured. Make it neat. Ordered. Controlled. He hurried back to tell Simon and help him fix Kaylee.

---

Freya sauntered across the street to the warehouse, trying for sexy but figuring all she looked was desperate. She didn't do sexy, but that's what Mal wanted. She was the decoy, after all. With a gun stuffed down the back of her pants. Although on some planets maybe that was sexy. She had to smile. Even her thoughts were wandering today. Must be River. That girl was certainly putting out enough static to … She shook herself. _Keep your mind on the job, Freya_, she told herself. _Mind on the job and you don't get shot._

At the door she paused a moment, wishing she had hair more like Zoe's, or Inara's, so that she could fluff it up and look more attractive. Maybe Mal had been right, and she needed to –

"What you want?"

A man had thrown the door open, a rifle clutched ostentatiously in his hand. She hadn't knocked, so either someone was keeping watch or … Ah. On the periphery of her vision she noted a tiny security camera, probably feeding directly to a monitor inside. Something to remember. She smiled and kept the gun at her back away from the lens.

"I'm kinda lost. Would a gentleman like yourself be likely to be able to help a lady in distress?" She found herself dropping into Mal's tone and measured style of speech, even as she was wincing inside.

The man looked her up and down. "Might. If'n I saw a lady." He guffawed at his own joke.

She made herself laugh along with him. "Well, it has been said before," she replied, knowing she was going to scrub her skin clean as soon as they got back to Serenity. "But I _am _lost. I was looking for the Federal station. Can you direct me?"

His eyes slid over her form again, and she was immensely glad she was well buttoned up. "Like I said. I could. But what's it worth to me?"

"My undying gratitude." She smiled widely. "Ain't that enough?"

"Not sure." He glanced out of the door, left and right. "You alone?"

"Well, I wasn't," she said, as if admitting it grudgingly. "I kinda got separated from the rest of my crew, and I figured the Fed station was the best place to go."

"And they left you all alone? That ain't nice." The rifle had dropped a little.

"Oh, they're probably looking for me. Well, eventually. But I don't like to think I was causing trouble, you know?"

"That I do." He moved half a pace closer, and she could smell stale sweat and beer on him. "I could always take you there. Just to be sociable."

"Could you?" She was almost gagging at the thought, but managed to simper a little.

"Well, I –"

"Jasper!" A voice thundered from inside the warehouse. "What the hell're you doing?" A second man came to the door, much more formidable than the first. "Get that piece of tail out of here. And you ain't to go running around just 'cause some whore bats her eyes at you."

"Whore?" Freya said softly.

---

Jayne opened the skylight and gazed inside, letting his eyes become adjusted to the gloom. He could see the doorway from here, and two men standing in the light. Positioned perfectly for a couple of kill shots, if truth be told, but Mal had said he didn't want any gunplay. His fingers tightened on the butt of his pistol for a moment, wondering if he could get away with saying he'd forgotten, but realised Mal would probably still be mad. Instead he lowered himself carefully onto the roof of the small office.

Laying down, he peered over the edge into the room, seeing the other two men engrossed in the action on the monitor in front of them. One of them had the remote, and had zoomed in on what could be seen of Freya's cleavage, even though it was covered in sandy-coloured cotton. That didn't stop them leering. Jayne's lips cracked a smile. Could be just the excuse he needed. And maybe they'd put up a fight.

---

"Who're you calling a whore?"

The second man glared at her. "Just move on. Nothing for you here, and no-one's got the coin to pay you."

"I was just asking for directions."

"Yeah. Into a man's pants."

Freya's finger itched, and for a brief moment imagined the gun in her hand, and this man's head exploding satisfactorily into blood, bone and grey matter. Then she mentally shook herself. "Look, I just wanted –"

She didn't get the rest of the sentence out, as four horses galloped past behind her, reins flapping, saddles empty.

"_Lao cang_, them's ours!" the first man, Jasper, said, running out into the street.

"Really?" Freya raised her eyebrows in surprise.

---

Jayne watched as the two men in the office scrambled to their feet, grabbing their guns and heading for the door. As they stepped into the body of the warehouse he dropped behind them, crashing their heads together with a satisfying crunch. They fell to the ground, unmoving.

In front of him, the man still in the doorway had half turned at the slight noise, then crumpled to the dirt, revealing Freya standing behind him with her gun in her hand. Jayne grinned then turned back to grab the security monitor and feed.

---

Jasper had run into the shadows after the horses, pulling to a staggering halt when someone stood in front of him, thumbs tucked into his gunbelt, a smile tugging at his lips.

Raising his rifle, Jasper was about to let loose with a tirade of obscenities when he felt something cold press against the back of his neck, and he stopped mid-breath. A dark-skinned, female-type hand reached round and lifted the rifle from his suddenly nerveless fingers.

"That's better," the man in the brown leather coat said. "Now, you and me gonna have a little chat."

"Cha … chat?" Jasper stammered.

"Yeah. Friendly, like."

"Oh. That's good."

"I just wanted you to know we ain't stealing the goods in there. More like … repossessing. We work for the man you've been keeping them from, and we intend to make sure they get delivered. Nod if you understand."

Jasper nodded, putting everyone in mind of one of the Geisha dolls.

"Good." Mal smiled again. "Now, I imagine you're just doing a job, like we are, so no-one wants to make any undue fussing, or trying to follow us, or anything like that. 'Cause in some circles we're known as mean desperadoes, and you don't want to cross us. _Dong mah_?"

He nodded again.

"Okay." Mal glanced at Zoe, her Mare's Leg pressed lightly against the other man's neck. "And just in case you decide to do anything foolish …"

The man dropped like a stone, the pale lights of Concepcion switched off as the carbine met his head.

"You really think that was a good idea, sir?" she asked, looking down at the unconscious figure. "Wouldn't it have been better just to take the goods and run?"

"Who said we weren't gonna run?" Mal raised his eyebrows at her. "Just wanted them to know we ain't common thieves."

"So we're the uncommon type. And desperadoes, apparently."

"Won't do our rep any harm," Mal said, stepping over the body and walking back towards the warehouse. "Better get those cases loaded up on the mule before anyone decides to come over all suspicious."

Zoe inhaled deeply, watching him walk out into the watery sunshine, and idly wondered whether he was being affected by River more than he was letting on.


	5. Chapter 5

Mal was furious when they got back to Serenity with the cargo and he found out what had happened to Kaylee.

"Wasn't her fault," the young mechanic said, sitting on the medbed, her arm strapped to her chest. "I didn't understand, tried to stop her. Shouldn't've done that. You wanna blame someone, blame me."

"Not blaming anyone, _mei-mei_," Mal said, aware he had been doing exactly that although unwilling to admit it. "But I'm beginning to think my initial reaction of locking her in the shuttle was the right one."

Simon leaned against the counter, taking some of his weight on his hands. "It isn't River's fault. Nor is it her hormones. I checked them this morning."

"Then explain to me why my mechanic's sitting here looking like something out of a pyramid on Earth-that-was." Mal crossed his arms and glared at the doctor.

"I think the baby's consciousness is interfering with River's control so she's doing repetitive tasks to get some of it back," Simon said. He nodded towards his cupboards. "She's had everything out of here, gone through it, itemised things in more detail than I ever did." He shrugged. "I think it helps."

"And if we don't let her?" Mal asked. "She takes it into her brain to attack us?"

"It wasn't like that, Captain," Kaylee insisted.

"Maybe not, but what if she decides to re-organise everything on the bridge? Maybe by opening all the airlocks, just so they're the same."

"I don't think she'd do that," Simon said.

"Don't think? Ain't really wanting to hear that you don't think." Mal's voice was sharper than when speaking to Kaylee.

"Well, that's all I have. In something like five days time she'll be giving birth, and hopefully this will all be over."

"Hopefully. Another word that I'm wishing wasn't in your vocabulary." Mal felt Serenity powering up, preparing to lift off. "Are you going to keep an eye on your sister?"

"I don't have to. Bethie is."

Mal's shoulders went back. "Bethie? Simon, that girl's only –"

"She's a Reader. And she calmed River down more than any of us was able to." Simon let his annoyance with the other man show. "Do you think I'd put my own daughter at risk? Do you honestly think I'd do that?"

They glared at each other, then Mal shook his head slowly. "No, I reckon you wouldn't. But that doesn't help us keep your sis in check."

"I don't think we have to," Freya said from the doorway. "Simon's right. Bethie's watching her, and as long as we keep her busy, River will be fine."

"Frey, darlin', there's only so much tidying a person can do," Mal pointed out.

"Then we find things. Like this." She held up a ball of string. "You help me tangle this all up, and it'll take her a while to get straight again."

"She's not stupid, you know," Simon said quietly. "She will understand what you're trying to do."

"I know." Freya sighed. "And she knew what Bethie was doing with the toys." She saw Mal raise his eyebrows in query, but she shook her head slightly. "The point is, she knows she needs it. She's embarrassed by it, but she knows. So we find her things."

"She can still tidy my tools," Kaylee offered. "Not like I can at the moment." She touched her shoulder gingerly. "And I hate to see 'em all over the place."

Jayne, standing next to Freya and silent up until this moment, grunted slightly. "She's sorry. More'n anything, she wishes she hadn't done that to you, Kaylee."

"I know." The young woman smiled at him.

"And Frey's right. There's things. I can put a box of ammo together and she can sort that. Maybe get some of her pictures out, see if there's a way she can catalogue them."

Freya nodded at him encouragingly. "That's it." She looked back at Mal. "There's only a few more days. I'm sure we can find enough things for her to do." She narrowed her eyes a little. "And don't go pretending you were thinking about putting her out of the airlock."

He managed to look shocked. "Did I say that I was?"

"Mal, she just needs some help."

He looked at his wife, feeling the tendrils of her inside his mind, willing him to understand. "Oh, I do, Frey," he finally said. "I'm just glad you didn't go through this with Ethan or Jesse."

She smiled. "Who's to say I won't in the future? In fact, I was looking forward to it. Throwing spoons and stuff."

That elicited a chuckle from him. "Okay. Fine. We get things out, make a mess, let her clean it up. Hell, might even end up with a shiny boat out of it."

"That's not what it's for, Mal," Simon warned.

"You mean I can't look on the bright side?"

"No."

"Pity." Mal turned to his mercenary. "Better get the goods stored, then go see to your wife. I conjure she probably needs you right now."

Jayne nodded and strode back into the cargo bay.

"He really loves her," Simon murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

"Course he does," Kaylee said. "Anyone can see that."

---

Jayne pushed the last box into the smuggler's hole, grunting slightly with the effort, then stood straight, aware someone was watching him. "You okay, _jin wu_?" he asked.

River smiled, just a little, gazing down at him from the catwalk outside the shuttle. "Shiny." The smile disappeared. "Hurt Kaylee."

"She knows you didn't mean to." Jayne hefted the section of bulkhead back into place, hearing it click into concealment. He looked up. "She ain't mad."

"No, but I am. Crazy." She tapped her temple. "Can't control it, Jayne."

He walked slowly up the stairs until he was level with her, then put his hands on her shoulders. "That's kinda what I'm here for, darlin'. Stop you going all bibbledy and killin' someone."

"Trying not to," she admitted. "I didn't know it was going to be so hard."

"What, not killin' folks?"

"Having a baby." She looked down at her belly.

He raised his eyebrow. "That mean you'd'a thought twice if you'd known?"

"Didn't think once. Didn't know until it happened," she pointed out.

He huffed under his breath, remembering the trouble they'd had with her then, before she'd even admit to being pregnant. "Was it so bad?"

"No. But worse now."

"River, you gonna start talking in proper sentences, or am I just gonna put you over my shoulder and carry you into that there shuttle?"

She let a giggle bubble from her lips. "No incentive to talk in sentences."

"And we ain't done nothing for more'n two weeks. So all I was gonna do was –"

"I know." She looked into his blue eyes. "I just want my Jayne to be with me."

"I'm here, moonbrain. And we'll find stuff for ya to do, don't you fret. No need to start hurtin' anyone."

She glanced down towards the infirmary. "I need to apologise –"

"You did that already, more'n once, I've been told. Like I said, Kaylee ain't mad at you. She understands. Been through this herself, having a kid."

"She's not crazy."

Jayne pulled her close to him, letting his warmth comfort her. "Not what Simon said those final coupla weeks. Things she wanted, had a craving for, he was racing 'round like a chicken had its head cut off." He chuckled at the memory.

"Salt." River licked her lips.

"Nope, that's you."

"Want salt."

"Well you ain't getting any. Your bro'd kill me if'n he found I'd brought you it again."

She sighed as she remembered him buying her a small bag, all for herself, and she'd sprinkled it all over the bed before rolling in it. He hadn't gotten rid of the grittiness in unexpected places for days. "Then I'll take _you_."

"That's fine," Jayne said, lifting her gently into his arms. "Just so long as you try and not kill anyone, okay?"

"Okay," she promised as he carried her into the shuttle.

---

Zoe leaned on the catwalk railing, watching Freya lifting weights. Her skin gleamed with sweat, and there was the even, repetitive sound of breathing, interspersed with light grunts. They'd eaten dinner already, but most people felt a little antsy after the events of the day, and few had gone to bed. As was usually the case when she couldn't rest, Freya was making use of Jayne's bench, working her muscles until her mind calmed and she felt ready to sleep.

Zoe waited for her to finish the set, then called, "Frey."

The woman in question sat up and looked over her shoulder, smiling. "Hey. If you're wanting Hank I think I saw him head for –"

"No. It was you I wanted to talk to." Zoe noted the tattoo showing above the sleeveless T Freya wore was glistening, almost glowing. It seemed to have more colours on it than usual, too.

"Shiny." She indicated the weights. "You want to do a set? I'll spot you. Jayne won't mind – he's in with River."

"Thanks, but I don't feel in the mood at the moment," Serenity's first mate said as she walked slowly down the stairs. "You know, I get the feeling he's not planning on letting her out of his sight."

"Unlike Hank with you," Freya pointed out, taking a pull on her bottle of water.

"Well, yes, but –"

"River's just a pregnant woman, Zoe. Okay, an insane, occasionally violent pregnant woman, but on this crew, who wasn't?"

"I wasn't violent." She paused. "Much."

Freya laughed. "Course not."

"Actually, that is kind of the thing I wanted to talk to you about." Zoe sat down on the bench beside her friend.

"Why, are you pregnant again?"

"No."

"Just checking."

Zoe took a breath. "Anyway, I wanted to talk to you as Mal's wife –"

Freya interrupted. "Oh, look, Zoe, that dream … I was only winding Mal up about it. I know it didn't … that he wouldn't –"

"I know that."

"Oh." She relaxed fractionally. "Then –"

"Did he seem more … aggressive to you today?"

"Who, Mal?"

"I'm presuming it was him, and not his only slightly evil clone."

Freya went to deny it, then remembered the inclination she'd had to separate a certain man's head from his shoulders because he'd called her a whore. "Um …"

"You felt it too," Zoe realised.

"A little. Not aggression so much as … well, maybe it was."

"River?"

"I imagine so." Freya wiped at her face with her towel. "Are you afraid Mal's going to do something crazy when we get to Argus?"

"When am I not afraid he's going to do something crazy?"

The look on her friend's face made Freya laugh. "I know what you mean. Zoe, you keep him on the straight and narrow. Well, as straight and narrow as crooks can be," she added quickly. "And I'll talk to him."

"Thanks." Zoe stood up. "Now I think I will try and find my errant husband."

Freya smiled. "I've a notion River suggested he might like to do some gardening since she can't get close enough to the bins."

"Suggested?"

"A spoon may have been involved."

Zoe chuckled.

---

Mal watched as Freya sponged herself down as much as she could in front of the mirror. She'd come back from the shower room complaining that Zoe and Hank were using the facilities, and from the sounds emanating from inside were likely to be some time. Not that he minded, at least about her not being able to shower. The view of his naked wife with a flannel in her hand was all kinds of interesting.

"I will be so glad when we get back to Lazarus so I can have a proper bath," she muttered, reaching round to clean the area of the lowest sigil in her tattoo.

Mal smiled, enjoying the show. "You think it feels more like home?" he asked somewhat absently.

She glanced at him, lying in their bed already. "Did I say that?"

"No, but –"

"It's just the bath." She sighed and stretched, her muscles moving smoothly under her skin. "Lazarus is nice, but this is home." She ran the flannel up and down her arms. "Still, a bath …"

"So if I put one in the cargo bay, maybe got Kaylee to rig up some kinda bubble making machinery –"

She grinned. "I'd love you forever."

"I thought you already did that."

"Then foreverer."

"Is that a word?"

"Is now." She screwed the flannel up to get the moisture out and hung it to dry. Pushing the drawer closed with her hip, she heard the water flush away and picked up a towel. "Although I don't think that would work, not really. People would be barging in all the time, and I'd have to fight Jayne for it."

"Jayne?" What she was doing with the towel was making him somewhat warm.

"Oh, yes. He really got into it when we were at Inara's. Some evenings one or other of us would want to bathe, and he'd already be there before us, using her bath salts. And singing."

"Love songs?"

"What else?" She laughed. "I think there's a deeply sentimental man somewhere under all that violence and aggression." She moved to the edge of the bed and sat down. "Here. Dry my back, would you?"

"Sure." He took the towel from her hand and began to rub it up and down the flame. "So you think River's found that streak of his?"

"I surely do." She closed her eyes to enjoy the sensation better. "I'd never have thought it possible, but they seem to fit."

"The assassin and the mercenary."

She glanced over her shoulder at him. "She's not really an assassin. What they did to her, what they tried to make her … she's still a young woman, Mal. With all the wants and needs of a young woman. She's just been lucky to find the man who complements her."

"But did it have to be Jayne?"

Freya laughed. "Let's put it like this. When she came on board, there were five men available. One was married, one was celibate, and one was extremely closely related. So unless she was considering adultery, blasphemy or incest, that left you and Jayne." She turned so she could look at him. "Would you rather she'd set her sights on you?"

He stared at her. "Frey, she's young enough to –"

"Be your daughter, yes, I know. So?"

"I never … there wasn't even a moment of my considering … I mean even when she came out of that box I didn't ever –"

She took pity on him and reached down, placing a kiss on his protesting lips. "Oh, shut up," she murmured.

Eventually he said, "You're a tease, you know that, don't you?"

"That's why you love me," she pointed out, tossing the towel onto the chair and shuffling herself across him so she could get into her normal spot. He groaned. "Sorry? Did you say something?"

"No." He shook his head, trying to will his disobeying body to behave. "Nothing."

"That's okay then." She snuggled down. "Actually, talking about aggression, Zoe was a little concerned about you today."

He lifted his head to stare at her. "Me?"

"You seemed somewhat different to your normal self."

He lay back. "You mean how I was lacking in my usual subtlety?"

"Something like that."

"Yeah." He breathed out heavily. "Not sure my own self, Frey. And it wasn't aggression. Not really. Just I seemed to feel stronger'n usual. More in control."

"Because the plan went smooth?"

"Before that. And after, yes. Don't quite know what came over me."

"I do. River."

"Riv –"

"She may be putting out a lot of static, but she's leaking in other ways too."

Lifting himself onto his elbow so he could look directly into her eyes, he said, "So this is how she feels?"

"How she _wants_ to feel. Empowered. In control." Freya rubbed her hand through her hair then rested her head on it. "I think she's projecting."

"Is it dangerous?" he needed to know.

"Depends. You likely to start believing you can breathe outside without a suit?"

"That's crazy."

"So's she. But this confidence … _over_-confidence … could lead to a situation similar. You need to be on your guard against it."

He touched her cheek. "Do you feel it?"

"Oh, yes." She laughed shortly. "I nearly blew one of those creeps' heads off. And Jayne wasn't much better, although that may just be because he's an expectant father."

"So we tell everyone so they're aware of it." His fingers moved down her neck. "Girl can't stop it, I suppose."

"She can't. A bit like her name, really. It takes a lot of work to dam a river."

"Don't know about that." His hand drifted south. "Jayne seems to have done it."

"And look at the problems he has with her sometimes." Her breath hitched. "What are you doing?"

"Just seeing if my lack of subtlety extends to anything else."

"I'm all clean," she objected, but with no heat in her voice other than the kind he was generating.

"So? I'll wipe you down again after."


	6. Chapter 6

The three day trip to Argus went as well as could be expected, especially as most of the crew spent the time keeping metal utensils out of River's way at the same time as trying to come up with various small, repetitive tasks she could perform. It seemed to work, as she sorted the odds and ends in a box Hank found which had been long forgotten in the cargo bay, undid the tangle of string Freya provided, and she even went through all the seeds she'd collected and was going to plant once she could tend her garden again. She seemed more centred, more relaxed.

The most surprising and effective task, however, was one dreamed up by Jayne.

The morning of the second day everyone sat down to breakfast of protein bars and coffee - it being Hank's turn to cook, and these were the things least likely to cause a fire - and chatted amongst themselves, talking of mundane things such as how they intended to spend the day, whether Freya was going to be able to help Kaylee or teach lessons, and how they were going to spend the money due them from the delivery on Argus. River seemed to be listening, but her hand edged towards the salt even as Jayne dropped his large one on top.

"River," he said softly. "Ya don't want that. Eat your breakfast."

"Not hungry," she demurred, still gazing at the salt pot. "Don't want it to consume."

Mal glanced at Jayne, wondering if they were going to have to watch River counting out the tiny grains of salt, one at a time, but the big man shook his head slightly.

"Got something for ya better'n that," he said. Getting to his feet he crossed to the cupboards behind the counter, opening the top one that held his bottle of booze out of the way of tiny, prying fingers, and reached inside. When he turned around he had a small bundle in his hand, which he placed in front of his young wife. "Here. Made this for ya."

River touched it with awe, eventually unwrapping it as he took his place back next to her.

Everyone else watched as the contents were revealed.

"Knitting needles?" Kaylee said, her voice high with surprise.

She was right. Inside the cloth bundle was a pair of wooden knitting needles and a ball of wool.

"I made 'em," Jayne explained. "Last night. Couldn't sleep so I … well, I figured you could learn how to knit." He looked at her under his eyebrows. "You can't, can you?" he asked, just a little unsure.

"No-one ever showed me," River admitted, running her fingers across the polished wood. There was the very faintest scent of best gun oil, and she realised that's what he'd used to make them shine, stroking them like they were the finest tools in the 'verse.

"Where'd you get the wool, Jayne?" Hank asked, his eyes drawn to the odd colours in the ball.

"Bits. Stuff." The big man was evasive. "But there's more if you need it, River."

"Wait a minute." Simon leaned forward. "Is that … my sweater?" He touched a grey streak in the yarn.

"Sweater?" Jayne shrugged. "Wouldn't know."

Simon picked it up, examining it closely. "It is. Damn it, Jayne, it _is_ my sweater!"

"Just lying there, doc." The big man wasn't about to allow Simon to get all prissy on him. "Should take better care of your stuff if you don't want it used for scrap."

"Scrap?"

River took the ball out of his hand. "I like it," she said, putting it against her face to feel the texture.

Jayne smiled. "That's good."

"Why didn't you use something of your own to pull apart?" Simon asked, feeling more than a little annoyed.

"_Your_ sister, doc. Thought you've been pleased to help her."

"But you didn't ask!"

"Simon, it had a hole in it anyway," Kaylee pointed out, trying to calm the situation.

"I was intending to mend it, and that's not the point!"

"And I did put something of mine in there." Jayne rolled the ball to show an orange section.

"Oh, no," Freya said. "Not your hat."

River gasped. "No," she whispered.

"Not all of it, girl," Jayne hurriedly assured her. "Just the pom-pom on top. So what you make for the baby has something of my Ma in it."

She looked down at the ball then up at him. Her eyes were suspiciously moist. "Is this for me to make for him?"

"Yeah. Kinda the first gift." He half-grinned. "If you want."

She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him hard.

"Albatross, put the man down," Mal ordered, swallowing slightly, as always a little surprised by his mercenary's occasional flashes of sentiment. "It ain't exactly appropriate behaviour at the breakfast table."

Kaylee smiled widely. "I could show you how to knit, but I need two hands." She glanced down at her shoulder. "Maybe if I talked you through it …"

"I'll show her," Jayne said unexpectedly, moving his wife away from him enough so he could look into her face and wipe the tears from her cheeks. "My Ma showed me and Matty how when we were young. Might take me a while to remember all the different stitches, but I'll do it."

Simon couldn't stop himself. "You? Knit?"

"It's a time-honoured tradition, doc," Mal put in quickly, in case of bloodshed. "My Ma tried to show me, 'cept I was all thumbs. But I do remember her saying her mother'd told her it used to be men who knit. Back on Earth-that-was."

Freya nodded. "I heard that too. Sailors, mostly. Not the stars, but the seas."

"Then I apologise," Simon said, turning a little pink.

"Nah," Jayne chuckled. "If'n I'd heard about a man could knit, I'd'a made fun of him too, so I ain't gonna hold it against ya. This time."

Zoe stirred. "Jayne, there's an old sweater of Wash's I've still got. Maybe you could undo that."

"Really?" The big man was taken aback, along with everyone else at the table. "I mean, I took the doc's just to wind him up." He tilted his head at the young man. "Sorry, doc."

Simon shook his head, gritting his teeth only a little bit. "No problem."

"And 'cause I needed more'n I had," Jayne went on. "But I never thought -"

"It's for the baby," Zoe interrupted. "I think Wash would have approved."

Hank reached over and took her hand, squeezing it gently.

"Oh, that is so sweet!" Kaylee gushed. "I've got something somewhere you can use, I know it."

Bethie piped up excitedly, "That green top Auntie 'Nara bought me. I've growed out of it."

"Grown out of it," Simon corrected, but no-one was listening.

"Hey, I ain't taught her to knit yet," Jayne said swiftly. "But if'n you all want to contribute, that'd be shiny."

"Now?" River asked, holding out the needles.

"You eat your breakfast first, _xiao nu_," Mal said from the head of the table. "That's the deal."

River glanced from him to her husband.

Jayne nodded. "Mal's right, baby. You eat first."

With something approaching disgust on her face, River picked up one of the protein bars and took a tiny nibble.

Freya smiled, then looked at Mal. "Well?" she asked. "Isn't this the point at which you tell everyone if they've got jobs to do, to go and do them?"

He let his own lips curve. "Am I that predictable?"

"Course you are, Cap'n. S'why we love you," Kaylee put in, grinning widely at him. "You gonna help me today?" she asked Freya.

"Of course."

"Good." She stood up and looked down at her own husband. "Can you look after the children? 'Cause there's a few things I … _we_ need to get done."

Simon nodded. "You need to have another physio session on your shoulder, but that can wait until this afternoon. I'll take care of them."

Ethan sat up. "Can we look up diseases?" he asked hopefully.

"I can bandage you up," Bethie offered.

Mal laughed. "I think you might've bitten off more than you can chew, Simon."

"The story of my life," the young doctor said dryly.

Everyone left the table apart from Jayne and River, who was still chewing her way slowly through her breakfast.

"Anyone but me feeling a mite concerned that Jayne's just given our resident crazy person what amounts to a couple of sharp, pointy, lethal weapons?" Hank murmured as he and Zoe headed for the bridge.

"Spoon?"

"Ah. Right."

---

"The rabbit goes in the hole. The dog chases round the rabbit. The rabbit ducks behind the tree and comes outta the hole again."

"Jayne, I'm not six."

"Fine. Go ahead. Show me."

There was a long silence.

"The rabbit appears to have multiplied."

"That's just 'cause ya didn't bring him round the tree, River. Just pull 'im back and start again."

"There's no logic to this."

"Sure there is. Just put the rabbit back in the hole."

"Back in the hole. The dog chases the rabbit …"

Down in the engine room Kaylee leaned against the doorway. "That's so sweet," she said. "Who'd'a known Jayne'd have that much patience."

Freya, laying on the floor and not feeling very patient with a valve she was trying to tighten, sighed. "He's a tracker. He's spent hours waiting in the same place, same position for his prey to come along."

"You'd think she'd just pick it out of his brain. You know, read him." Kaylee shook her head. "Be easier."

"That's not what this is about, though, is it? She wants to learn, and Jayne wants to teach."

"I know. But it's like I said. Sweet." Kaylee sighed, smiling happily.

"I'm not disagreeing with you," Freya said, then jumped as the wrench sprang loose and caught her across the knuckles. "_Mei yu mou qin de xiao gou_," she swore somewhat incomprehensibly as she sucked the graze, tasting sweat and engine grease on her skin.

Kaylee turned quickly back to her engine. "You okay?"

"Fine. Just fine." She inspected her hand. "Nothing that six hours of surgery and a couple of dozen weaves won't put right."

Kaylee laughed. "You're worse than Bethie."

Freya peered out from under the housing. "Thanks so much for comparing me to a four year old," she said, glaring at the mechanic, before retreating and attacking the valve once more.

Back in the galley, the conversation continued.

"Jayne, the hole appears to have got bigger."

"That just means you dropped a stitch."

"How can I have? It isn't on the floor."

"Let's start again …"

---

By dinnertime that evening everyone on board had got sick and tired of hearing about rabbits and dogs going down holes. Except River, who sat in the small lounge area working studiously. As Zoe cleared up after their meal, she glanced across at the young woman, staring intently at the small piece of knitting she had managed to produce.

"She's doing okay," Jayne said before the first mate could speak. He handed her the last of the plates. "I think it's been a while since she's done something needs practice to get it right."

"Not everyone can knit, Jayne," Zoe pointed out.

"Can you?" the big man countered.

"No."

He grinned. "Ain't surprised. Somehow I can't see you with a coupla needles and a ball of yarn."

"It's supposed to be good for keeping the fingers supple. Gallagher, during the war, used to do it a lot. We'd hear his needles clacking away in the middle of the night, 'til he lost his kit somewhere, and wasn't able to replace it." She smiled. "He loved those things more'n he loved a woman, Mal said. And he never did really recover when they went missing." She chuckled. "Rumour had it the Sergeant was responsible for their disappearance, on account of the noise Gallagher used to make with 'em, only it was never proved."

Jayne laughed. "Must be like Mal says, then. Not a girlie thing at all."

"Nope. I think the captain's right." She nodded towards River. "You'd better get her to bed before she wears them needles out and you have to make her a new pair."

"On our way, Zoe." He smiled and went to collect his wife.

---

That night, waking from a dream of flashing needles and dogs chasing rabbits, Mal turned over in bed and reached out for Freya, but there was only empty sheets. Fighting through the sleep that tried to reclaim him, he forced his eyes open and looked around. She wasn't in the room, and he could see the hatch above the ladder was open.

He sighed and laid back. It wasn't unknown for her to get up in the night, sometimes from hunger, or occasionally because she couldn't sleep and didn't want to wake him, but usually she'd be back quite quickly. He waited, the coolness of the bed next to him keeping him from dozing, but she didn't reappear.

Pummelling the pillow, he glanced around the room, then sat up. Wherever she was, she appeared to be naked. Her clothes were where she'd left them, tangled with his on the chair, and her robe still hung from its hook.

He threw the sheet back and swung his legs over the side of the mattress. It really wasn't like her to be wandering the ship nude. Grabbing his pants he stood up, tugging them on and buttoning them enough to stop them sliding off his hips before he hurried up the ladder.

A quick glance into the dining area proved the galley to be empty, and there was no movement further along towards the engine room either. Heading back, he took the stairs towards the cargo bay, his bare feet not making much sound on the cold metal. As he stepped into the large dark space, however, he let out a long breath of relief. In the gloom, her skin glowing, Freya was standing by the bulkhead, leaning both hands on it, her head down.

"Frey?" he called.

She didn't respond.

He walked down the stairs and across the floor to her, feeling the grating pressing uncomfortably into the souls of his feet. She was by the smuggling compartment, as if communing with something inside.

"Frey, you should be in bed." He put his hand on her shoulder, but she didn't move. Ducking his head he looked into her face. Her eyes were open, but there was no recognition in them, nor any other expression, while her lips were slightly parted, her breathing even.

This he understood. She was sleepwalking.

She'd done it a couple of times over the past few years, once when she was recovering from what Wing did to her, and once when he found her in the nursery, watching Ethan dream, just a few days after they brought him home from the hospital and the pacemaker implant. Neither times did she wake when he took her back to bed, nor did she remember it in the morning. It only ever seemed to be when she was worried about something, or particularly stressed, but he couldn't fathom what might be the cause this time.

"It's late, Frey," he said softly, taking her by the shoulders and steering her back towards the stairs. She didn't resist. "There's a nice warm bunk waiting for you, and a nice warm husband to lie next to. Need to be up bright and early for that job, too, so you need to get your beauty sleep." He put his arm around her and they walked up the steps. "Not that you need it. You're beautiful enough as it is. Any more and I'd have to be beating other men off with a stick every time we landed someplace. Not that I wouldn't either. Not having them coming around trying to steal you from me. I'd set Jayne on 'em 'fore that happened." His voice died away as they walked slowly through the top doorway.

Down below, in the smuggler's hole within the wall, not more than a couple of feet from where she'd been standing, the three crates were waiting to be delivered. Two were quiet, inert. But deep inside the third, in the centre of the box of stabilisers, a small beacon flashed the Firefly's position.


	7. Chapter 7

Mal stepped onto the bridge and looked out of the window as Hank brought Serenity in to land. Argus was supposed to be one of the prettier of the Rim moons, all blue oceans and white-topped mountains fringing the large icecaps, with just a few outcrops of large rocky islands and archipelagos in the temperate zone. From space it looked idyllic: it was only down on the ground that it was obvious people were struggling to survive.

Not that it looked all that wonderful closer up, either, as Hank tilted the Firefly's thrusters to drop through thick clouds.

"Whoa, did you see that?" he asked, leaning back in his seat.

"What?"

"I just thought I saw … never mind." The pilot adjusted their trajectory a little.

"If it's something I need to know –"

"Just thought I saw a house, is all." Hank looked slightly embarrassed.

"Well, the winds they way they are up here, wouldn't be at all surprised." Mal hitched his thumbs into his belt. "Are we going to have trouble landing?"

"Well, Port Control weren't too keen on it, but I told them I'm a damn good pilot and I'd get us down in one piece." He patted the console. "Hear me, baby? One piece."

"Always a good plan," Mal agreed.

"Frey having breakfast?" Hank asked, fighting the yoke a little as they passed through the topmost of the winds.

"I conjure."

"Only you were both late up this morning. Not like you to be late. Not at all." He flashed a grin over his shoulder.

"Keep your eyes on the road and your mind outta the gutter," Mal advised.

"Out of gutter. Right."

Mal hid the smile that threatened to show. In fact, they had been late, and it was more than just not hearing the alarm clock.

He'd been shaving, staring at himself in the small mirror and concentrating as he removed the stubble that had pressed through his skin. He didn't know she was awake, and after the experiences of the previous night he was inclined to let her sleep, getting ready for the day as quietly as possible. It was only when he felt a hand snake around his waist and lay splayed on his belly that he realised he was wrong. He jerked slightly then yelped as a small bloom of pink appeared in the foam on his cheek.

"Sorry," she said, kissing his naked shoulder.

"Thought you were asleep." He dabbed at the small cut and felt the soap stinging it.

"With you standing there with no clothes on?" Her mouth drifted down to his shoulder blade. "How's a woman supposed to get any rest with you naked?"

"You want I should get dressed?" His voice had deepened as her lips reached the small of his back.

"You do and I'll divorce you," she promised, sucking the skin gently.

"Cut yourself shaving, sir?" Zoe said, bringing him back from the then and mighty pleasurable to the here and now.

"Huh?" He half-turned to look at her.

"Shaving." She tapped her own cheek.

He reached up and found a tiny area crusted with dried blood. He rubbed it off. "I was in a rush," he explained.

"Really."

He glared at her. "The mule loaded up?"

"Yes sir."

"Well, soon as your husband gets us down, we'll be leaving." He strode off the bridge.

Hank chuckled. "He really ought to know by now that these walls ain't as thick as he thinks they are."

"Just land the boat," Zoe said, but her lips were twitching.

---

The rain was coming straight down, with an occasional gust of wind blowing it at right angles. Jayne glared out at it.

"Why the hell can't we go someplace nice 'casionally?" he grumbled. "Once in a while."

"People live where they can," Mal said, walking towards him and buckling his gunbelt. "At least they can fish, if nothing else."

"Yeah, but at this rate they won't have to get to the sea to do it."

"Jayne, you complained about Marley," Zoe pointed out.

"Yeah, but this is wetter. There I was just sweatin' like a pig. Here I ain't got a hope in hell of staying dry."

River handed him his slicker. "Horses sweat, men perspire, ladies glow," she murmured.

"Than I must be a gorram thoroughbred," he commented, pulling it on and buttoning it tightly up to his chin. "'N' if I drown, you make sure I'm buried proper, okay?"

She smiled and reached up, placing a kiss demurely on his cheek. "Hurry back," she whispered. With that she turned and walked slowly towards the common area, touching everything she passed.

"Should she be up?" Mal asked quietly.

"You wanna tell her?" Jayne countered.

"Not particularly." Mal took his own raincoat from Freya. "You sure you want to stay behind?" he teased. "Don't fancy coming out for a nice ride?"

She shook her head. "No, not really." She absently rubbed her back.

"There a problem?" he asked, stepping closer to her.

"No."

"Only it looks like your back's hurting."

Freya raised her eyebrows in surprise. "No." She stopped, realising what she was doing. "At least I don't think so."

"Maybe you should get Simon to take a look. Be on the safe side." He thought, but didn't say, that she'd been through so much.

"I'm fine."

"Humour me."

"Gorramit," Jayne said, jamming his cowboy hat down hard on his head. "Can we just get going?"

---

"Uncle Hank, can you play with us?" Bethie asked, peering in the bridge doorway.

The pilot turned and smiled at her, seeing Ethan and the other children standing behind her. "Depends. What were you thinking of playing?"

"Hide and seek?"

Hank grinned. "Now, short stub, you know your Daddy said you couldn't play that no more. Not since he got upset when he couldn't find you and he was convinced we'd left you behind on that moon."

Bethie giggled. "He got cross."

"I thought he was gonna have a heart attack." He shook his head. "Besides, ain't it time for your lessons?"

"Auntie Freya said we wouldn't, just for today." A small frown crossed the little girl's head. "I don't think she feels very well."

"Anything specific?"

"Auntie River."

He understood. "Then maybe you should be keeping an eye on the both of them."

"Peeking's bad." Bethie sighed, screwing her eyes up. "And Auntie River hurts."

"Then you need to play quietly anyway."

"Isn't hide and seek quiet?" Ethan asked.

"Not when your Uncle Simon starts shouting, no."

"Come on," Bethie said, taking young Master Reynolds' hand. "Let's go watch Auntie River knitting." She plodded back down the steps. "Adults," she added in an undertone.

Hank grinned. Then a small beeping noise on the console drew his attention back.

---

The delivery was to be made to an address on the other side of town, but the streets were empty of people as they crawled along. The rain made visibility poor, and Zoe didn't really fancy running into anything, particularly with the crates of power packs safely stowed under the tarp in the back.

"You know, there are days I'm glad we bought this thing," Mal said from the seat next to her. "We'd never've got the old mule through the mud."

"Wash would've tried," Zoe responded.

"Yeah, he did love that old vehicle, didn't he?" Mal wiped the rain out of his eyes, but was immediately blinking hard again. "He spent weeks putting her back together after that time on Niska's skyplex."

"It was therapy."

Mal glanced at her. She'd never really spoken about that time, after they'd rescued him from a fate that was proving to be a hell of a lot worse than death. "Therapy?" he asked.

"Nightmares," Zoe admitted. "Feeling useless." She looked across at him. "He blamed me for a while for choosing him rather than you."

"He …" Mal shook his head. "That man could drive a priest insane."

"I told him he had to put that idea out of his head." Zoe gazed into the rain again. "He was the one wanted to come get you. He just had a bad time of it for a while."

Mal studied her face, her stoic, impassive, beautiful profile. "Glad the mule could help."

"Anyone got a bucket?" Jayne asked from the back seat.

"Bucket?" Mal half-turned. "Why, you feeling seasick?"

"No. I'm drowning." The big man lifted one of his feet. "I'm ankle deep back here."

Mal looked down. The water was indeed lapping around Jayne's boots. "I'll let Kaylee know when we get back. Maybe some drainage holes would be a good idea."

"Too right." Jayne squirmed slightly, feeling moisture where it had no right to be. "How much further?"

"Just ahead," Zoe said, nodding into the gloom.

---

"Look, there's no need for this," Hank said, staring at the official on the vid. "We ain't going anywhere right now, and even if we did, I'm the best pilot you've seen. I could take off blind in a snowstorm and still not hit anything."

"The landlock is for your own good. Our storms can be unpredictable, and we don't intend having a ship crashing." The man tutted. "Apart from the possible loss of life, we just don't carry that kind of insurance."

Hank couldn't believe it. "You landlock us for no good reason, and you talk about insurance?"

"You'll just have to wait until the storm clears. Then you can be on your way." The man leaned forward towards the off switch.

"No, wait …" Hank said quickly, but the screen had already gone to static. He closed his eyes. "_Qi you ci li_," he murmured.

---

The drop point was yet another warehouse, smaller than the one they'd picked up from on Bernadette, and more dilapidated, but the large double doors were the same. They were also locked.

Mal banged on the wood. "Hey!" he called. "Anyone there?"

There was no response. He banged again, with the same result.

Zoe drew her gun. "We're on time," she said softly.

"Maybe _they're_ late. Got caught in the storm." Still, Mal had his own pistol out. "Jayne, take a look around. See if you can find anything."

"Yeah." Something was tickling the back of his neck, and it wasn't rainwater.

"Keep an eye out, Zoe," Mal warned.

"Always do, sir."

Jayne prowled around the outside of the building, his gun securely in his hand, feeling mud sticking to his boots, but there was no sign of life. Getting back to the main doors, he glanced at the others and shook his head. "Got me a bad feeling about this," he said.

"The door." Mal nodded towards a normal sized opening.

Jayne nodded and kicked at the lock, the wood splintering around the metal, but only bouncing in its frame. He grunted in surprise then pushed at it. It only opened a couple of inches, then seemed to jam on something. Putting his weight behind it, he pressed harder, but it barely moved. Reaching round warily, he felt something leaning against it, fabric under his fingers, and wetness. Drawing back his hand he saw redness before the rain washed it away.

"Blood," he said softly. "A body."

"Zoe," Mal ordered.

His first mate nodded, ready at the crack in the door. Mal and Jayne pushed with all their strength, and Zoe managed to slip inside. A moment later there was the sound of something being dragged away and the door opened.

"Three dead," she said succinctly.

They stepped past her into the gloom, and Jayne went down onto his heels next to the body Zoe had moved. "Throat's cut." He rubbed his fingers together. "Recent."

"This one's still alive," Zoe said, touching the chest of the second man in the middle of the floor.

Suddenly a boom of gunfire filled the warehouse, and the injured man's head snapped back, blood and brains spraying across the hard-packed earth.

"And you'll be joining him if you try anything," came a voice from the darkness.


	8. Chapter 8

Mal, Zoe and Jayne turned slowly towards the voice, trying to see in the darkness of the warehouse but only able to make out indistinct shapes.

"Zoe?" Mal murmured.

"Five."

"Six," Jayne corrected, equally quietly.

Mal nodded slightly, breathing shallowly, ready to shoot when necessary.

"And I'd be beholden if you'd just drop those guns to the ground," the voice in the gloom continued. "Else I'll be forced to make you."

Zoe glanced at her Captain, then followed his lead in placing her Mare's Leg carefully onto the dirt. Jayne grumbled to himself, colourful and extremely obscene Chinese curses bitten back behind his lips, but he did the same, feeling the reassuring press of Binky's sheath at his back.

"That's right. Don't do anything stupid and no-one needs to get hurt." The voice chuckled slightly. "Well, no-one else."

Jayne stiffened slightly. That laugh sounded all too familiar.

"You gonna apologise to the men lying dead here?" Mal asked.

"Nope. They're just casualties of war."

"Ain't no war here. Just folks trying to scrape a living." Mal began, but Jayne interrupted him.

"And you weren't on any side in the war," the big man said. "'Cept your own."

There was movement in the gloom. "Jayne Cobb?" A man stepped forward into a small glow of light, tall and thin. "That you?"

"If it ain't I'm labouring under a misapprehension."

The man laughed. "You always did like those big words. Never figured you to be understanding half of 'em."

"Well, you don't know everything, Corcoran." Jayne couldn't have sounded more disgusted if he'd just trodden in _jin zhi _and had no way of scraping it off.

Corcoran smiled coldly. "You know, I thought you were dead." His pale, almost translucent eyes didn't blink.

"Wasn't for lack of you trying."

"No, true."

---

Freya looked up from the book she was reading, her eyes narrowed as she tasted the thoughts in her mind. It was hard, difficult to see through the static that had been miring her for weeks, but if she concentrated, pushed just _there_ … She was on her feet almost at the same moment as her face paled, grabbing her gunbelt and running up the ladder.

---

"Some of those scars you got from him, Jayne?" Mal asked, not taking his eyes off the man in front.

"Few."

"And now I get to meet your friends." Corcoran looked the others up and down. "Ain't you gonna introduce us 'fore I take all your worldly goods?"

Jayne fairly bristled. "Ain't yours."

"Now, you see, I tend to look on it as being possession being nine points of the law. That and the fact that I'm armed and you're not." He looked past the big man out into the rain. "And it looks like I've got a bonus. Nice vehicle you got there. Make me a pretty penny when I sell it."

"It ain't yours," Jayne repeated, his muscles already getting ready to fight.

"You know, you're like a stuck vid." Corcoran motioned to one of the men still in the darkness. "Baxter, bring it inside. Don't want a fine piece of machinery like that to get all rusty."

"Yeah, boss." Baxter circled around and undid the bolt on the main doors, throwing them open.

"Jayne, I never knew you had acquaintance with such fine people," Mal said softly, using the sudden increase in illumination to pick out the exact positions of the other four men, knowing the others were doing the same.

"He's done this before, Mal," Jayne explained. "Hears of a cargo, goes in, kills the people waiting for it and takes what he wants."

"You sound rather too knowledgeable."

"Yeah, well …" For once the ex-mercenary was somewhat embarrassed. "We run together for a while. Back after the war. Things were tight and I needed cash, and he offered … But that's a long sorry story, and I ain't in the mood to be telling it."

"I understand." Mal did, too. However much this man had changed over the past few years, become family, there were periods in his life that would never stand up to moral scrutiny. "Does it help us any?"

"Nah. Just thought you'd wanna know." He flexed his hand slightly. "And he's lying. He ain't gonna let us walk out of here."

---

Hank heard the hatch above the captain's bunk open, and he jumped from his seat, catching sight of Freya as she hurried down the stairs.

"Frey, hold up! We got problems. Port Control've put a landlock on … what're you doing?" He stared at her as she crossed the cargo bay floor towards the open door.

"Mal's in trouble," Freya said, buckling her gunbelt around her hips. "Stay here and –"

She didn't get to finish the sentence as a bullet thudded into the wall next to her. Another made her stagger and fall.

---

Mal stiffened.

"Sir?" Zoe breathed, but he shook his head, swallowing hard.

The hover mule came in behind them, and Baxter settled it to the ground. Jumping down, he closed the doors once more and gloom descended again.

"So now what?" Jayne asked.

Corcoran took a step closer. "Fancy rig like that, you must have a decent ship. Might be something on board we can use. Or maybe someone?"

Jayne's face ruptured into loathing. "You slaving now?" he asked, unable to keep the revulsion out of his voice.

"Hey, whatever pays the bills." Corcoran put his head onto one side. "What, you saying you never did?"

"Not even when I was lower than the tits on a worm."

"Jayne Cobb. Man of honour." He moved closer. "Only we know better, don't we, Jayne?"

---

"Frey!" Hank yelled, running across the bay floor and jamming his hand hard onto the external control, even as he saw figures appearing out of the rain.

A shot above him rang out, and one of the figures fell just as the ramp lifted fast, catching him under the chin and tipping him back soundlessly.

Hank glanced up. River stood on the catwalk, one of her rifles pointed at the rapidly closing gap.

---

"Never said I was that." Jayne shook his head, aware Mal had paled. "Ain't never been an honourable man."

"No, guess maybe you didn't. But you're gonna do the honourable thing now, ain't you, Jayne?" They were now little more than a foot apart. "You're gonna tell me where that ship of yours is."

"Why? So you can take her?"

"So I don't just shoot you." Corcoran massaged the hilt of his gun with his thumb. "And I can make it last a long time, and it'll be gorram painful."

---

"What is it?" Simon asked, appearing in the common area doorway.

"Freya's been shot," Hank said.

"Help her," River said, lowering the rifle and walking unsteadily towards the bridge, one hand pressed against her swollen belly.

Simon ran across the bay floor, even as the sound of banging started outside. "What's that?" he asked as he went down onto his knees next to her.

"The bad guys."

"Can they get in?"

"Probably. Eventually." Hank ran a hand through his scruffy brown hair and looked up at Kaylee who had appeared in the upper doorway. "Can you lock us down? Make sure it's as difficult as possible?"

The young woman nodded, hurrying wordlessly out of the bay.

"Who are they?" Simon asked, pulling the wet red fabric from Freya's shoulder.

"No idea. Probably someone Mal's pissed off. He does that a lot."

Freya groaned, opening her eyes.

"Lie still," Simon ordered.

"_Cao_," she murmured, feeling the pain radiating through her body, and tried to move away from it.

"Lie still," he repeated. "You're bleeding a lot, but it doesn't seem to have hit anything vital."

"Sure it has," Freya said, her eyes fluttering slightly as she held grimly onto consciousness. "Me."

"I meant a bone, or an artery." Simon pressed the skin around the bullet hole.

"No, don't think it did. It went straight through," Freya said, gritting her teeth but not able to suppress the groan that trembled through her.

Hank went down onto his heels. "Did you mean it?" he asked, looking into her eyes. "What you said? Did you mean it?"

The doctor glared at him. "Hank, you have to let me –"

"We're not the only ones got problems. Frey said the others did too. That's where she was going."

"What are you talking about?" Simon stared at the pilot.

"Simon, she said they're in trouble. Mal and Zoe and … she said they're in trouble."

---

"Truth is," Corcoran continued, his tone conversational, as if they were discussing the terrible weather Argus was having for the time of year, "I don't need all of you. Don't really even need one, least not whole, so I can make this just as messy as I like." He pointed his gun at Zoe. "So you tell me. Where's your ship?"

"She ain't his," Mal said, stepping between the gunman and his first mate, knowing she was looking daggers at his back but having to do something. "She's mine."

Now Corcoran laughed. "So there is an honourable man here after all." He turned his liquid eyes on Mal. "You know all about this man here, do you? The things he's done? 'Cause I'm sure you don't."

"No, doubt I do," Mal agreed. "But I know him now."

"And that's supposed to make the difference?"

"Nope. Not to a man like you."

---

Freya took a deep breath, ignoring the pain lancing through her. "Hank, give me a hand up."

"No," Simon said. "I need to –"

"You need to patch me up. I have to … they're in trouble, Simon." She pushed at the wall, trying to stand. "What I said to Hank – it's true. They need my help."

"You're not going anywhere."

"None of us are," Kaylee said, her voice treacherous as she hurried back out onto the catwalk above them. "River'd already locked us, but she says there's another five men outside, and they're not wanting to take prisoners."

As if in response to her words, the banging on the cargo bay doors got louder.

"Damn it," Freya ground out. "If they make a mess, Mal won't be happy."

"Help me get her to the infirmary," Simon said quickly. "And why don't we just take off?"

"That's what I was trying to say to Freya." Hank looked more than unhappy. "We're landlocked. Seems the Argus Port Control don't want us crashing on anyone if we tried to take off during the storm."

"Isn't there anything you can do?"

"I've been trying."

"Help me up," Freya insisted.

Hank looked at Simon, who nodded. "Infirmary," the young doctor said firmly.

---

"A man like me?" Corcoran smiled slowly, the expression not meeting his eyes. "Man like me has a gun on you, so I'd've thought you'd be a bit more pleasant."

"If you're gonna shoot, just do it." Mal tried to breathe evenly, hoping Zoe could use his body as a shield to get to her gun. "Hate people who talk at me instead of getting on with things."

"Fine." The sound of the safety being removed seemed loud, even over the drumming of the rain on the roof. "Wouldn't like to disappoint you."

"Corcoran …" Jayne warned.

"It's just so very easy. Just tell me which is your ship or I'll …" He let the muzzle of the gun drop until it was aimed squarely at Mal's belly.

---

"Mama?" Ethan stood in the common area doorway, his little face scared as he gripped the opening with both hands.

"You go back now," Freya said, leaning heavily on Hank. "I'm okay. I just need your Uncle Simon to put a weave on me."

"Hurts," her son whispered.

"I know." She smiled for him.

"Daddy …" He swallowed nervously.

"He'll be fine." Freya stood up as much as she could. "But we need you to be brave right now. _I_ need you to be brave. I want you to go and hide, Ethan. Take the others and hide where I showed you."

"Stay safe?"

She nodded. "You stay safe for your Daddy and me, _dong mah_?"

He nodded, barely holding back the tears that wanted to fall. "'Kay, Mama," he whispered, turning to go back into the common area, his eyes fixed to hers.

Freya collapsed back onto Hank. "Gorramit," she muttered. "I've been shot before. Why should I feel like this?"

"Because you've lost a lot of blood already," Simon explained, helping Hank half-carry her towards the infirmary. "And you'll pass out if I don't get you patched up." Her shirt was already soaked around her shoulder, and the blood was transferring to the two men. "Infirmary, now."

---

Mal watched as Corcoran allowed his finger to take up the slack on the trigger, and he braced himself for the blow that was to come, then the shock before the pain set in …

"Reynolds!" A voice, loud, angry, filtering in from outside.

Corcoran looked up. "What the hell …"

"Reynolds! I know you're in there!"

"That you?" Corcoran asked.

Mal nodded slowly. "Seems to be."

"Then you'd better be telling them you don't need rescuing."

"Oddly enough, I doubt that's what they're trying." He shrugged. "Don't think they're mine."

"Reynolds!" The man outside didn't seem to be calming down any. "You come on out and hand that cargo over, and maybe I can persuade my men not to take out their anger on the folks back on your ship."

Corcoran stared. "Do you always make friends this easily?" he asked.

"It's a gift," Mal said dryly, wondering just what the hell else could go wrong today.

---

Up on the bridge of Serenity River sat in the pilot's chair, hugging her belly. She couldn't see the ground, but that didn't matter. The five consciousnesses of the men outside were like bright flames in the grey, all filled with bitterness and anger, burning black with poison. She could see Freya red with pain, and Simon blue with concern in the infirmary, the yellow worry that was Hank on his way up to the Firefly's cockpit, Kaylee's green hue hovering in the corridor, but none were as bright as the press of pain that rolled through her, making her toes curl and her lungs gasp for breath even as she panted.

_Not now_. _Not now._ A mantra, over and over.

As the contraction ended, and she stood up from the chair to make way for Hank, she couldn't stop the thought from filling her mind.

_Jayne._ _I need you. You promised!_


	9. Chapter 9

"Reynolds!" The man outside was getting louder. "You took that cargo out from under us on Bernadette, and Sullivan owes me. You're gonna give it back and the money he paid you. I think that's fair."

"Is this to do with you?" Corcoran asked.

Mal tried to look reasonable although his heart was sinking. "Let's just say I was involved, though it ain't exactly my problem." _But it's sure as hell gonna be Sully's when I catch up with him_, he thought.

"Oh, but it is." The man lifted his gun again. "And it could just be a permanent problem if me or my men get hurt in the crossfire."

"And that should worry me … how?" Mal almost laughed. "You were just about to shoot me. You think I'm gonna be concerned about your health?"

"Mal …" Jayne ground out, and even Zoe winced internally. Mal's overconfidence seemed to be back.

"Talk to them," Corcoran ordered.

"What?" Mal's eyebrows went up.

"Talk to them."

"And tell them what, exactly?"

"I don't care. Make a deal if you have to."

"You gonna keep it?"

Corcoran gave him a withering look. "Sure I am."

Mal walked towards the door, stopped by Baxter while he was still six feet away.

"Close enough," the man said, his gun pointing squarely at Mal's chest.

"I wasn't intending to make a run for it."

He poked Mal hard with the barrel of his rifle, enough to bruise. "It's still close enough."

---

"Lie still," Simon ordered.

"I have to be doing something." Freya was struggling to sit up on the medbed.

"You've been shot. That makes me in charge."

She paused and glared at him. "You think?"

"It does down here." He pressed on the wound in her shoulder and she gasped. "See?"

"Sadist."

"That's right. Insult the man who's trying to save your life."

"I'm not dying."

"Don't tempt me."

She took a calming breath. "Simon, we've got bad guys outside, and Mal's … I can't afford to lie here."

"Fine." He'd had enough. "So go ahead," he said, stepping back.

"What?"

"Bleed to death. See if I care."

Her jaw dropped. "You'd let me …"

"I've told you I need to stitch this up. You don't want me to. Fine. Go ahead. Walk out of here, and when you pass out I'll just get Hank to pick you up and carry you back and do it then." He crossed his arms, his face impassive.

"Gorram it, Simon …"

"And swearing at me isn't going to help."

She ground her teeth in frustration but lay back. "Okay, okay. Just … get on with it."

"Thank you." He picked up a swab to wipe the new blood away.

"But just you remember if you had let me bleed to death you'd've had to tell Mal," Freya pointed out.

"I'm sure he'd have understood. He lives with you, after all." He ignored the new obscenity she threw at him and began to work.

---

Up on the bridge, Hank was trying to see past the rain still beating down onto Serenity, but not having much luck. They could have been alone in the 'verse for all he could tell. He glanced at River who was leaning her weight on the co-pilot's chair, her belly resting on top.

"They still there?" he asked.

"Still there."

"You okay?" He could see a light film of sweat on her forehead.

"Jayne." It was the truth. Just not all of it.

He took it at face value. "Yeah. Course."

"Ain't there something we can do?" Kaylee asked, cradling her shoulder.

Before Hank could say anything, River put in, "It's raining."

Her sister-in-law smiled sadly. "Honey, we know that."

"And electricity loves the rain."

"What?"

"River, are you suggesting …" Hank stared at her, then nodded slowly, a smile beginning on his face. He turned to Kaylee. "Can you get Serenity powered up with one hand?"

"It'll be awkward, but … sure. But why'd I want to? We can't go anywhere." Her eyes widened as Hank jumped from his seat and dropped into the avionics bay under the windows. "What're you doing?"

"Disconnecting the safeties for the discharge spikes."

Kaylee's jaw dropped. "Hank, if I power us up, there'll be nowhere for the –"

He popped his head back up, a hard smile on his face. "I know." He disappeared again. "Pretty much the idea."

---

Mal glared at Baxter, but the other man wasn't going to move. "Fine." He took a breath. "I'm Captain Reynolds," he yelled. "Just who is it that's threatening me out there?"

The voice from outside sounded closer. "If it matters, my name's Prater. Reed Prater. And you stole from me."

Mal hitched his thumbs into his empty gunbelt. "Repossessed. Not stole. Didn't belong to you."

"Sullivan didn't pay us. Makes it mine."

"You chased us halfway across the galaxy to tell me that?"

"Nope. I chased you halfway across the galaxy to kill you," Prater replied, his voice half-lost in the pounding rain.

Mal chuckled slightly. "And you think that's gonna make me want to come outside and play nicely?"

"Shit, Reynolds, right now I'm not that sure I care."

"How'd you find us anyway?"

"Beacon. In one of the crates. Just in case."

"_Wang ba dahn_," Mal heard Jayne mutter.

"Hurry it up," Corcoran hissed.

"Look, Reed … can I call you Reed?" Mal felt himself settling, his mind taking in every detail, even as he prepared to talk his way out of things. If at all possible without bloodshed.

"Whatever you want."

"Reed, this business with Sullivan, well, it ain't our affair."

"I'm making it your affair!" Prater wasn't coping with his anger too well. "You got our goods and our money. I'm wanting it back!"

"And if we go. You think you can change your mind and let us leave?"

This seemed to surprise Prater. "You ain't gonna fight?"

"Looking at all the options, actually."

There was something of a delay, then … "You made us look all kindsa fools. And my rep don't like that. Not likely to let you go unscathed. You know how it is."

"Bruise level?"

"More like bullet holes."

"Non-fatal?"

Corcoran was staring at him. "What the hell're you doing?"

Mal glanced back. "Making a deal. Like you said."

Prater called, "It could happen. Maybe you'll walk out of here instead of being carried."

"Then I'd like to oblige, only there's some folks in here laid claim to the goods too, and they've already killed my contact."

There was an explosion of laughter from outside. "You being held up already?"

"Looks like it."

"Well, ain't life a bitch?"

"You have no idea."

---

The glow of the Firefly lit the rain, turning it golden all around the ship. Not that its beauty reached the occupants of the infirmary.

"He's insane," Freya said, struggling to get up again from the medbed.

"It wasn't Hank's idea," Kaylee said, looking worriedly from her friend to her husband. "River suggested it."

"I take it it's not safe," Simon said, attempting to hold his patient down.

"He does it wrong and it'll fry us. That's what the spikes are for, discharging the build-up of electricity from the hull while we're in flight. If he's disabled them –"

"Not disabled. Rigged it so he can fire them when he wants," Kaylee put in quickly.

"It could still burn us out. You'd better get back to the engine room, make sure the idiot doesn't kill us all before those folks outside get a chance to."

Kaylee nodded and ran for the stairs.

"Is it really that bad?" Simon asked.

For answer Freya pushed Simon away and swung her legs over the edge of the medbed. "Am I likely to bleed dry on the way up to the bridge?" she asked, daring at him to tell her to stay put.

"Possibly."

"You're impossible," she said, levering herself to her feet, swaying slightly. Then she doubled over a little.

"Freya?" Instantly Simon was at her side. "Were you hit elsewhere?"

"No," she said, her eyes screwed shut. "I just feel …" It passed and she stood upright. "I'm okay. Just felt wrong for a minute."

"You need to lie down again, so I can check and make sure –"

"Later, okay?" Freya took a deep breath and headed for the door. "Once I've made sure there's a later to be had."

---

"Smooth," Mal muttered. "Why can't things just go smooth?"

Jayne growled behind him. "It never does, does it? Not when it's your planning."

Mal turned slowly, about to ask what he was talking about when he saw Jayne's eyelid flicker. Not even a wink – just a tremor that could have been nothing at all. "You saying you could do it better?" he demanded, hoping he'd seen right.

"Couldn't do it much worse. Ain't a job hardly goes by we ain't been shot at. 'N' I got more scars'n a man should have 'cause of you."

"And you're saying that's my fault?"

"Ain't no other runt where I'm looking."

"Since when did you grow a spine, Jayne?" Mal put as much venom behind it as possible, seeing Zoe's mouth drop slightly until she realised what they were up to. "Has to be 'cause there's someone else around likely to finish the job for you."

They moved closer, knowing all attention was on them. Zoe faded into the background.

"I could finish you with one hand tied behind my back," Jayne spat. "Hell, I'll even close my eyes."

"Yeah?" They were squared up to each other. "You've been a pain in my _pi gu_ for long enough, Jayne Cobb. I'll be pleased when Corcoran here finally shoots you."

"Only after I've ripped your throat out," Jayne warned.

"You think?"

"I think!"

It was enough. Zoe leaped for the hover mule, standing idling in the shadows. Baxter had left the engine running and neglected to set the brake, so a hand slammed down hard on the controls had an immediate response. The mule went into a spin, clipping two of the men and tossing them aside like broken rag dolls.

It took the attention away from Mal and Jayne long enough for the former to drop into a crouch and take Baxter down, while Jayne pulled Binky from the sheath at his back and threw it. The knife buried itself in Corcoran's chest, making him slip to his knees and drop the gun from suddenly nerveless fingers as he died without a chance to protest.

Mal managed to hold Baxter on the ground by the simple expedient of kneeling on his chest, using the rifle to cut off the other man's air supply. He felt rather than heard a bullet part the hairs on his head, and leaned forward, putting all his weight behind his hands. Baxter was struggling, trying to throw him off, but Mal kept up the pressure.

More gunfire, and he recognised the individual sounds of Zoe's Mare's Leg and Jayne's handgun, interspersed with a scream and some obscene bubbling noises as a man died noisily.

Baxter's face was turning red, and he was trying to breathe through a throat that was being crushed, his heels drumming on the hard-packed dirt. Spittle was forming at the corners of his mouth as his eyes bulged, and Mal was about to pull back, to let the man breathe, when he saw Jayne bend down and fire his gun into Baxter's temple. He sat back in shock, then looked up at the big man.

"They don't leave no survivors, Mal," Jayne said by way of explanation.

After a long moment Mal nodded and took the hand Jayne proffered, allowing him to help him to his feet. Zoe gave him his gun, which he slipped back into its holster, feeling more like himself again.

"Runt?" he said to the ex-mercenary, who shrugged.

"So … who am I dealing with in there?" Prater called into the sudden silence amid the rain thrashing down.

"Still me," Mal shouted back.

"Knew I wasn't going to be that lucky."

"We're still deep in the _cao_," Jayne said, cleaning Binky on what appeared to be part of Corcoran's shirt before resheathing the blade.

"Least we ain't drowning in it now," Zoe put in softly.

"Nope," Mal agreed. "Only knee deep, far as I can see, with just got the one lot of bad guys to deal with." He sketched a smile. "Easy-peasy."

---

River leaned on the bulkhead, her hands on her belly. The pain was easing again, but now she could hear Simon and Freya's footsteps coming up the stairs. As they rounded into the corridor she hurried past them as fast as she could into the galley, then through towards the other staircase.

"River?" Simon called but she didn't respond.

Freya didn't even watch her leave, just headed for the bridge. Feeling torn, Simon shook his head but followed his patient.

After a few moments River slid back around the corner and into the dining area. Glancing towards the engine room she could see Kaylee going frantically from dial to dial, but she wasn't looking her way, and River felt a wash of relief spread through her. She needed to be somewhere safe, somewhere to hide. Somewhere dark that no-one would ever find her. Someplace she could tell herself this wasn't happening.

---

Kaylee bit her lip at the sounds her girl was making, feeling the static building up and making her hair stand away from her head. Freya was right – this was dangerous. Carefully avoiding touching anything metal with her bare hands she stepped into the corridor and hurried through the galley. "Hank, it's gonna be close," she shouted, even as the banging on the cargo bay door increased.

"Little bit longer." He watched the readings.

"Hank …" Freya, leaning on the wall with Simon at her side, wasn't taking her own eyes off the scanners.

His hand hovered over the button. "Just a little more."

"Hank …" Kaylee's voice was really worried. "It's going to burn us if we don't –"

"Now!" His hand slammed down, and the discharge spikes flared. It was as if a huge bolt of lightning flashed around the ship, filling the air, evaporating the rain in a nanosecond. Even on the bridge the glare of light blinded them all momentarily, and the hairs on everyone's arms raised. In their hiding place Bethie hugged Ethan to her as the thunder rolled, and Hope buried her face in Ben's lap.


	10. Chapter 10

Jayne was dragging the bodies into one corner of the warehouse to keep them out from underfoot if there was another fight going to happen, and taking the opportunity to go through their pockets as he did so, while Mal and Zoe peered gingerly out of the door.

"How many you figure?" Mal asked, trying to see through the still driving rain.

"Can't tell, sir. Possibly another four. Maybe five."

"At least the odds are a bit better this time."

"We could use the mule, make a break for it," she suggested.

"They'd be able to pick us off too easy, and at least one of us would be likely to be hit." He shook his head. "And I'm more than a trifle concerned about what he said about Serenity."

"You think Freya can't handle them, sir?"

"Frey's hurt."

She stared at him. "Badly?"

"I don't know. She's not talking."

Now she could see the tight worry lines around his eyes. She knew them of old, when they were waiting for a patrol to come back from a recon during the war, when he could feel in his gut that something had gone wrong, that his men were lying in a ditch somewhere, bleeding their life into the mud. "She'll be fine. You'd know otherwise, Mal," she said softly.

His lips twitched at her use of his first name. "Always figured that."

"How come no-one's come to find out what the noise is?" Jayne asked, coming up behind them, unaware of the conversation.

"It's a public holiday," Zoe said, surprising them both. "Hank looked it up," she explained. "And I'm guessing the rain's keeping most folks inside. Unless they're crazy."

"You mean like us?" Mal smiled at her, then looked out of the door. A bullet thudded into the doorframe, throwing up wood chips. He ducked back, swearing, as he reached up to his cheek and dug out a large splinter. He could feel blood running freely down his skin and he pressed against the small wound. He looked at Zoe. "You know, I think someone just tried to kill me."

"That's unusual, sir," she said, deadpan, earning a raised eyebrow from her captain.

---

"Well?" Simon called, standing by the cargo bay door. "Can I open up?"

Kaylee stood at the top of the catwalk. "Give him a minute, Simon," she said. "He's gotta reconnect the spikes and reset the safeties 'fore anyone touches the hull."

He didn't ask why. He didn't need to, as images of bodies caught in lightning strikes flashed across his mind.

"Do you have to be so graphic?" Freya asked, sitting on one of the crates, a rifle in her hands.

"Sorry."

"You're as bad as River," she complained. "Projecting like that."

"Was I?"

She half-smiled. "So maybe I was peeking. My walls don't seem too good at the moment." She shrugged then groaned as the action caught at her shoulder.

"You should be back in the infirmary," he said. "I can't guarantee you won't tear the wound open, either, if you try to fire that thing." He pointed to the rifle.

"Just taking precautions."

"Can you even lift it?"

She considered. "Maybe not." She smiled. "So I get to rest it on your shoulder."

Another image, this time of Freya firing a gun directly next to his ear, made Simon turn pale, and Freya chuckled.

Hank appeared next to Kaylee. "Done," he said.

"You sure?" Freya asked, getting to her feet and biting back another groan.

"We're safe."

She nodded and looked at Simon. "Open up."

---

"So we're not going with the walking away part, Prater?" Mal called through the door.

Prater sounded almost amused. "Seems not."

"I don't suppose a little bribery would help?"

"We got you outnumbered and outgunned. We're gonna take what we came for. You're just gonna have to live with that. Or not."

"Outgunned?" Jayne was annoyed.

"He don't know you," Zoe said placatingly. "And he's forgotten we've got the other weapons." She nodded towards the bodies.

"Except we've only got the two hands each," Mal pointed out.

"Knew I shoulda brought grenades," the big man muttered. "Should always bring grenades."

Prater shouted again. "Look, Reynolds, you ain't going anywhere, and I can wait as long as you like. But I'm getting wet, and I don't appreciate that. So you've got ten minutes. You can make this quick, or we can come in after you. But you ain't gonna walk away from this."

Mal sighed and glanced at his first mate. "I'm beginning to think your idea might be the only one."

They turned to look at the hover mule.

---

"Well?" Hank asked.

Simon stepped back from the doorway, his face carefully impassive. "Toast."

The sickly sweet stench of burned flesh filtered into the cargo bay before he could close the door.

Hank swallowed. "They were going to kill us," he said. "If their aim had been a bit better before …"

"I know." Simon took a deep breath and helped Freya to sit back down. "We need to get to the others."

"It's too far on foot," she said, almost dropping the rifle before he took it out of her fingers and leaned it against one of the cages. She grimaced as a wave of low grade discomfort swept through her.

"Freya, look at me." He lifted her head, gazing into her eyes as his hand automatically found her wrist, checking her pulse. "What is it?"

"Nothing," she said, feeling it dissipate. "Nausea, mostly."

"You've been shot. And if you're sure you weren't hurt in any other way …"

"Getting shot was enough, Simon." She managed to smile at him.

"If you're sure …" He didn't sound convinced, but looked up at Hank on the catwalk. "Does the landlock mean we can't disengage the shuttle?"

The pilot let a grin spread across his face. "I like how your mind works, doc. You'd make a decent criminal."

"So it's been said. I'll get my bag." He turned towards the common area but paused at the sight of his daughter in the doorway.

"Daddy, Auntie River needs you," she said, a lifetime of seriousness in her young brown eyes.

He put two and two together. Freya feeling bad, River's odd behaviour, her running from him … "Is it the baby?"

Bethie nodded. "She's hiding."

Simon sighed heavily. "That sister of mine's going to make me go grey."

"You have to stay," Freya said, trying to stand up. "I'll go with Hank."

"And do what? Faint with extreme prejudice?" Simon reached out to her shoulder. "Damn it, Freya, you're bleeding again."

"Language," she murmured automatically.

"I'll go," Kaylee offered, gazing at her husband. "You need to stay here with River, Frey's hurt, and … well, there ain't no-one else."

"You're hurt too." He put his doctory face on. "You're not going anywhere."

Freya smiled slightly. "I don't think any of us are."

"What?" Simon lifted his head, and felt the shuttle disengage.

"I think Hank decided all by himself."

"Then that solves that little problem, doesn't it?" He looked at Freya. "Infirmary. Now." He looked at Bethie. "Then you'd better take me to your Aunt River."

---

"Mal, we gotta move," Jayne said earnestly. "River's … she needs me."

Mal looked across at the big man, noting the sudden strain on his face. "Labour?"

"Yeah."

"Well, you tell me how we get out of this and we'll go."

"If'n I had an idea, I would."

For just a moment Mal considered all the options open to him, and came up more or less empty. Maybe it was time to do something stupid. "Okay. Jayne, unbolt the doors. Zoe, fire up the mule."

---

"Serenity, this is Argus Port Control. You do not have permission to take off. Return to your ship immediately." The face on the small screen looked rather angry.

"Not going far," Hank said, turning the shuttle into the storm and feeling the winds buffeting her.

"That is irrelevant. It's already been explained to you why you're landlocked. Did you think we'd make an exception for a shuttle?"

"So we make a smaller splash." Hank thrust his thumb down on the control to cut the man off, then looked at his reflection. "He seem annoyed to you?" Then he grinned. "Maybe craziness is catching," he said to himself and set a course.

---

"Ready?" Zoe asked.

"No." Mal smiled tightly from where he sat at the controls. "But since when did that ever stop us?"

"Think it'll go smooth, sir?"

"Always a first time." His gaze flickered to Jayne standing by the entrance. "Do it."

The big man unlatched the big doors, leaping back as Mal gunned the hover mule's engine, sending it roaring forwards.

---

"Here," Bethie said, tugging Simon's hand towards a door in the dining area.

He walked forward, touching the metal. "River?"

"Go away." Her voice was pale, taut, and in pain.

"Let me in, River."

"No-one here by that name."

"River ..."

"No!" she yelled, the sound reverberating through Serenity.

---

"Where the _diyu_ are you?" Hank muttered, eyes straining to see through the water sliding over the shuttle's window. "Zoe, come on, tell me where you are."

His hands were beginning to sweat as he gripped the steering yoke. Then ... "Yes!" he shouted, but his face tightened as he realised what he was looking at, and put the shuttle into a steep dive as the doors to the warehouse sprang open, and a hover mule barrelled out.

The downdraught from the shuttle's thrusters pulled the rain into a maelstrom and caused the men waiting outside to duck.

Never one not to take advantage of a situation, Jayne ducked out into the storm, raising his gun and firing at the figures. Three were down before they knew what was happening, although one of the others managed to get some shots off, and he felt a sharp sting up his right forearm. From the corner of his eye he saw Zoe letting loose with her Mare's Leg, and as the mule's brakes kicked in and it slewed to a stop. Mal jumped from the driving seat and advanced on the men, but it was already all over.

"Don't shoot!" said the last standing man, dropping his gun and putting his hands into the air.

"Jasper?" Mal asked.

"Oh, shit," the man murmured, his face ashen.

Mal controlled the smile that wanted to show itself. "I seem to recall a conversation we had back on Bernadette, about us being mean desperadoes and you not wanting to cross us."

"Yes, sir, I remember that too."

"So why'd you not listen?"

"I ..." Jasper swallowed hard.

"So you wanna give me one good reason I don't just shoot you now? Or maybe let him do it?" He nodded towards Jayne, who was advancing with determination written in large letters across his face.

"Um ... just following orders?" Jasper tried.

"Not sure that's good enough. You got a brain, ain't you?"

"Um ..."

Mal glared at him, then sighed. "Zoe," he said.

She swung her gun at the man's head, and for the second time in their short acquaintance Jasper found the world switching off as he pitched face first into the mud.

"Roll him over so he don't drown," Mal ordered, stepping over him.

"Sir."

"Prater still alive out here?" Mal called. There was a cough, and he headed in that direction. "You Prater?" he asked, standing over a man clutching his chest, blood turning the water around him pink.

"Yeah." He coughed again, and grimaced with the pain. "You gonna kill me?" He managed to grind out.

"No. Not today. Seen too much death today. But I'm not calling help for you either, so I guess it's in the lap of the gods whether you die here or not."

"I won't," Prater promised. "And I'll find you again, too."

Mal shook his head. "See, that's no way to talk to a man who's showing you mercy. Just take it that it was a bad day, you lost, and be on your merry. It's a hard enough 'verse out there without looking for trouble."

"Sullivan gypped me out of –"

"Then you take it up with Sully." Mal wasn't in the mood to argue. "It's done."

"Mal." Jayne touched his arm and nodded to where Hank had brought the shuttle in to land a little way from them.

Mal nodded, and watched as the big man loped away. He turned back to Prater. "And don't go thinking your little beacon's gonna be working. It won't."

"_Cao ni niang_," Prater spat.

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" Mal asked wonderingly, walking away from the bleeding man towards where Hank hung out of the shuttle's hatch.

"Your timing's perfect," Mal called.

Hank grinned. "I aim to please."

"Frey?"

"Just a little wounded. Simon says she'll be fine."

Mal felt some of the tension unwind from his gut.

Zoe joined him. "Do you think that was a good idea, sir? Leaving him alive?"

Mal glanced over his shoulder. "Not killing a man when he's down, Zoe."

"No, sir." She stopped. "I'll drive the mule back."

Mal smiled at her. "Thanks."

"Come on!" Jayne yelled, pushing Hank to one side. "Got me a wife's about to drop a baby!"


	11. Chapter 11

There was a cupboard on board Serenity where stuff was put. Just stuff. Like when it was broken but maybe someone thought it was too good to be just thrown out with the garbage, or if someone figured maybe it could be fixed one day, then it was put into the cupboard. There was a small Cortex screen Kaylee had always intended to mend so she could put it in Bethie's room, half a dozen out of date ration packs, a ball of string made up of lots of oddments, kept just in case. There was even one of Wash's old dinosaurs, sans head. And right now, as the rain pounded down onto the hull of the Firefly, it also contained a psychic, pressed in under the shelves.

"Broken," River said. "I can't be fixed but too precious to throw away."

Simon crouched down. "_Mei-mei,_ you have to come out. You're in labour."

"I disagree."

Simon sat down, taking the strain off his calf muscles. "It doesn't matter whether you agree or not. It's a plain fact." He could feel a crick starting in his neck from the unnatural position. "At least let me scan you."

River squirmed further back into the cupboard, clutching the headless dinosaur. "Not coming out. Want to cut into me. Cut me open. Take him."

"No-one's going to take your baby." He tried to sound calming.

"They do." She glanced down at her hands.

He understood. "Then we'll stop them. Like we always do. Mal, Zoe, Freya, Hank ... we'll all stop them taking your baby." He tried again. "River, I do need to scan you. If you'd just come to the infirmary –"

"No."

He took a deep breath. "All right, then how about …" He looked around to see Bethie holding out his portable scanner. "Thank you, sweetheart." He smiled at his daughter.

"You're welcome, Daddy."

"You'd better go back and look after the others, don't you think?"

"Jesse's hungry," the little girl admitted.

"I expect you are too."

"Little bit." She rolled her foot. "Can I go find us something to eat?"

"Of course. But nothing you have to use the stove for. Or knives."

She gave him a look he recognised as one of her mother's. "Daddy."

He had to smile. "Okay. Sorry."

"'Sides, I know where Momma keeps the cookies."

Now he knew why Kaylee kept complaining they were disappearing, but he didn't have the heart to tell her off. "Okay. But then I think you'd all better go and stay in the nursery, _dong mah_?"

"'Kay. Ben and Hope are tired, so they'll sleep, but Ethan's upset." She bit her lip.

"Tell him his mother's going to be fine. Soon as the others are back he can go and see her."

"'Kay, Daddy." She hurried behind the counter, and Simon could hear the sound of things being moved in one of the small storage areas.

He turned back to his sister and held out the scanner. All the while he'd been talking to Bethie, he'd been letting it do its work, and now he lifted it so she could see the readings. "If you don't believe me or your own body, believe this," he said softly. "You're in labour."

"Sneaky," she accused.

"I learn from the best." He reached out a hand. "Won't you come out? I need to examine properly."

She pushed further back. "I know what you want to do."

"River, please."

Tears began to roll down her cheeks. "I need Jayne."

"I know, _mei-mei_, and he'll –"

"He's here," Bethie said, standing behind her father, the cookie tin clutched in her arms.

Simon lifted his head.

---

"River?" Jayne shouted, jumping into the cargo bay almost before the shuttle's engines had stopped running.

"She's in the galley," Kaylee called from the other catwalk.

"Thanks," he said, running to the door and disappearing through it.

Mal, just a little slower, stepped out of the shuttle. "She okay?" he asked as Kaylee came towards him.

"She will be now." She could see his concern wasn't just for the young psychic. "And Frey's down in the infirmary. She's waiting for you."

"Thanks." He hurried down the stairs. At the door to the common area he stopped, though, and straightened his spine. No good to his rep in looking like he was rushing. He strolled into the infirmary. "Hey."

Freya turned her head enough so she could see him from where she was lying on the counter. "Hey yourself." She looked him up and down and smiled. "You're dripping all over the floor."

He glanced at his coat, then shucked it off, dropping it in the corner. "Better?"

"Only if you're gonna come here and kiss me."

"Not sure I should. Not sure what the doctor would say." He moved closer anyway.

"Simon would say we couldn't do anything until he said. Like he always does." She held out her hand. "You okay?"

This time he allowed the relief to show on his face as he wrapped her fingers in his own, holding them tightly. "Shiny. You, on the other hand, didn't duck fast enough, least according to Hank."

"Not the only one." She nodded towards his cheek where a streak of dried blood ran in a jagged line down his skin.

"It's just a scratch."

"Sure." She stopped, her face screwing up as her eyes closed.

"Honey?"

"It's okay. Just ..." She panted for a few seconds.

"I'm gonna get Simon," he said, concern tightening his chest as he tried to let go of her hand, but she was holding it fast.

"No. It's okay. He can't do anything."

"But you're hurting ..."

"It isn't that."

"Then what?" He saw her face begin to relax but his heart was pounding. "Frey, honey, you're scaring me."

"It's River. She's projecting, and I can't seem to stop her at the moment."

"You can feel her labour?"

"Not totally," Freya admitted. "But enough for it to be more than uncomfortable." She laughed a little. "I'm not sure I want to go through this again, at least, not without something to show for it at the end."

"Can I help?"

She smiled up at him. "I don't know. We can try next time."

He exhaled heavily. "You use me, Frey. You know I want you to." His eyes narrowed. "Though it could be said you were talking about us trying for another little one."

"Let's just get through this time first, then we can talk."

"You know I want more kids, don't you?" he said, dropping his head to look into her eyes.

"I know." She lifted his hand to her lips and kissed his fingertips. "But not right now, okay?"

"Okay." He leaned down and replaced them with his mouth, careful not to put any pressure onto her shoulder.

---

Jayne stopped just inside the dining area. "River?"

"Over here," Simon called from the far corner. He was still sitting on the deck.

The big man crossed the room. "She's inside?"

"She won't come out for me," Simon said, climbing to his feet and moving back. "You try."

Jayne squatted down. "River?"

"Jayne?" Her frightened face appeared in the dark.

"You gotta come out now," he said softly, reaching his hands inside.

"Don't want to. Warm in here. Cocooned. Safe."

"I keep yah safe, River. Ain't that the case?"

She peered at him. "My Jayne."

"That's right. And you gotta come out, 'cause you're having my baby and I want to see him born."

She wiped at her cheeks with both hands. "Messy."

"Don't care about that, moonbrain. But you need to be out here."

"Cut me open." She threw a glare beyond him to her brother.

"No, honey. Not 'less he has to. And I'll be right there, stopping him. Okay?"

She sniffed hard and nodded. "Look after me. Please. I don't know how." She reached out, but her grip tightened as a wave of contraction pulsed through her. "Jayne!" she screamed.

"I'm here, girl. I'm here." He pulled her to him, sweeping her into his embrace, just letting her use his strength until the pain diminished, trying to ignore the wetness beneath her from her waters breaking.

"Bleeding," she whispered as it faded, touching his arm where the bullet had grazed him and panting hard.

"Ain't nothing, River." Holding her tightly, he stood up. "Nothing like what you're going through." He turned and looked at Simon. "I'll be taking her downstairs."

The young man nodded and followed, marvelling at how gentle this man could be, this ... he couldn't help the slight shudder when he realised this was his brother-in-law. All the way down the stairs he was murmuring, just words to soothe the woman in his arms.

"Jayne, she okay?" Kaylee asked as they reached the common area.

"Just having my baby." Jayne smiled at her. "Women have kids every day." He carried her into the infirmary and placed her tenderly onto the medbed. "No big deal."

"Don't think you'd be saying that if you were the one having contractions," Kaylee commented, leaning in the doorway. "Men have no idea."

"That they don't," Freya agreed from the counter.

"Hey, I been shot," Mal protested, standing next to his wife. "More'n once. I think I know about pain."

"Not like this," Kaylee said.

Simon's professionalism was taking over, and it was the doctor appearing rather than the brother. "I need to check how far labour is advanced."

"And I think maybe we need to get out of your way," Mal said, a furrow appearing between his eyebrows as he saw the young man preparing to drape a sheet over his sister's belly. "Can I take Frey to one of the other quarters?"

Simon paused. "I really need to check that wound again, make sure she hasn't done anything to it."

"We ain't going anywhere else, doc."

"Then ... yes, it's a good idea." He busied himself with the sensors, Jayne moving out of his way only when necessary.

"No, I want to stay," Freya said quickly. "I can help."

"How?" her husband asked. "You're injured."

"I can be with River."

Jayne looked up from where he was stroking the tattoo around his wife's ring finger. "I'll be here. She ain't gonna be on her own."

Mal turned back to her. "See?" He leaned forward a little. "Please? For me?"

Freya sat up, wincing just a little. "Oh, come on, then," she said, swinging her legs around. "Give me a hand."

---

Hank was waiting as Zoe piloted the hover mule back into the cargo bay, setting it down as the water dripped steadily from it.

"You okay?" he asked as he closed the ramp.

"Shiny."

"No bullet holes, knife wounds, other things I need to be worried about?"

She climbed down. "No. Not a thing."

He released the breath he'd been holding. "Good." Taking her into his arms he kissed her, feeling her arms come up around him.

After a long period of silence, Zoe let him go enough so she could look into his grey eyes. "And River?"

"About to have a baby." He snuggled closer. "So ... are we? I mean ... gonna have another?"

Her lips twitched just a little. "Not right now. You need to give me a hand with a few things first."

His fingers walked down her spine. "Like what?"

"The bodies outside, for a start. What happened to them?"

Hank's breath hitched. "Lightning strike?"

"That would be very convenient."

"Wasn't it, just."

She let him go and took a step back. "Discharge spikes?"

He sighed. "Something like that."

Studying him for a moment, seeing the guilt he carried from being responsible for several deaths, she nodded slowly. "Come on. You get the crates out of the mule, I'll deal with the bodies."

He tried not to look grateful. "What are you going to do with them?"

"Hide them. Nothing else we can do. And I doubt anyone's going to wonder too much about them when they're found."

He swallowed. "Then I'll help." He walked to the door.

"You don't have to."

"Yes. I do." He pulled the heavy metal open and was relieved he could only smell the rain.

Zoe joined him, pride in her heart. "Then let's go."

---

"Mama?" Ethan was in the doorway, watching his father settle Freya on the bed.

"Hi," she said, smiling at him.

"Not going to die?" he asked, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

Mal was instantly down on his heels in front of him. "No, big feller. Your Momma ain't dying. Just a little banged up, that's all."

"I felt it," he said quietly, his eyes still on Freya.

A wash of remorse flashed through her, and she held out her uninjured arm. Ethan scrambled up onto the bed and snuggled against her. "I'm so sorry, sweetie," she murmured to him. "I never meant for you to see that."

"I know, Mama," he mumbled, his face buried in her breast.

Mal sat down next to them, stroking his son's back. "Maybe we need to start those lessons again," he suggested. "Make those walls of yours even stronger."

A small dog bounded through the open door and leaped onto the covers, wagging fiercely as he walked up towards them.

"Fiddler!" Bethie yelled. "Come here!" She appeared in the doorway. "Sorry, Uncle Mal. He got out." She eyed the trio and put her head onto one side. "Can we all come in?"

Mal glanced down at Freya. "I don't know ..."

"It's okay," his wife assured him. "And I think they need some company right now."

He smiled and stood up. "Where are they all?" he asked, taking Bethie's hand.

"In the nursery. With the cookie tin."

Mal laughed. "You'd better have saved some for me and your Auntie Frey."

---

"What's she doing?" Kaylee asked after an hour or so.

"Knitting," Zoe said.

"How can she?"

"I guess it helps."

"How?"

"No idea. All I could think about was killing Hank so he never came near me again."

"You too, huh?"

---

"Rain's stopped," Hank reported another hour later. "Landlock's been lifted too."

"Take us up, then," Mal ordered, told in no uncertain terms by his wife to go and see what was happening. "River said she didn't mind if her son was born in space, and I'm pretty sure she wouldn't want him coming into the 'verse on Argus."

"Will do."

"And put a wave in to Sullivan. Tell him, soon as we're in range, him and me are going to have a little chat." There was a world of meaning behind those simple words.

Hank shivered, remembering moving the bodies. "Can I watch?"

"If you're good."

---

"You should think about it, _mei-mei_. You're not fully effaced yet, and it's taking a lot out of you."

"No."

"I just want you to –"

"No!"

"Doc, long as she ain't in danger, I suggest you don't mention it again. Not 'less you'd like me to be removing one of them knitting needles from some place you really don't want it to be."

---

"I don't remember it taking as long as this before," Hank said, leaning back in the armchair.

Zoe glanced coolly at him. "How would you know? You went to town to start a fight."

He closed his eyes. "I was stressed."

"_You_ were stressed? I was in labour, and you say you were stressed?"

"Can I plead insanity?" he asked, turning his head so he could look at her.

"Depends. Are you ever intending to get over it?"

---

"How's my boat doing?" Mal asked, leaning on the doorway of the engine room.

"Shiny, Cap." Kaylee grinned at him. "Just checking her over seeing as this baby's taking a while in coming."

"And you? Your shoulder gonna be better soon?"

Her face fell a little. "It'll be a while yet," she admitted. "Simon said maybe a coupla months 'fore it's back to normal." She fixed him with a fierce stare. "And it weren't River's fault."

"I know that."

"It's just been hard on us, that's all."

"Surely has. So you won't mind if we set a while on Lazarus."

She brightened immediately. "Really?"

"Think we could all do with it," he said, smiling at his _mei-mei_. "It's been a hectic few weeks."

"That'd be so _shi quan shi mei_ ..." She was almost bouncing with pleasure.

He laughed.

---

"How much longer, doc?"

"A little while yet, Jayne."

"Only we're runnin' out of wool here."

"Jayne ..."

"S'okay, honey. Pant. Just like your bro taught you how. Come on. One, two, three, four, five and cleanse."

"I ... hate ... you!"

"Sure you do, girl. Just pant while you're hatin' me. One, two, three ..."

---

"You think I should make some food?" Kaylee asked, tossing the book she'd been trying to read for hours aside.

"I don't think anyone's very hungry," Zoe said, cleaning her gun on the dining table. "Coffee might not be a bad idea, though."

"Think I can do that," the young mechanic said, heading for the counter. "'Bout all I can do right now."

"I know what you mean." Zoe sighed and put the gun barrel down. "Kinda feel somewhat useless."

"Yeah." Kaylee suddenly smiled. "You want a cookie?"

---

Mal watched his wife sleeping, Ethan and Jesse either side of her, Bethie tucked up against her legs, and Ben and Hope bundled up with Fiddler by her feet. Just seeing her there made his heart swell in his chest, and he found it hard to breathe for the emotion welling inside him. Moving forward as quietly as possible, he picked up Jesse and lay down next to Freya, resting his daughter on his chest. Her little hands tightened on his shirt, but she didn't wake. With a smile on his face, he closed his eyes.

---

"I want to push."

"Not yet."

"Simon ..."

"Not yet. Just breathe."

"I am breathing, gorram it!"

"Moonbrain, calm down."

"You're not having this baby! I am! And I want to push!"

"Soon. Very soon."

---

"Mal."

He felt someone poking him in his chest. "Huh?" he said, trying to lift himself out of a dream where Zoe was taking a capture of Freya sitting in an old rocker, surrounded by a dozen children, as he stood behind her, one hand on her shoulder, the other holding the lead of an old hound dog who looked remarkably like Jayne. "What?"

Freya stopped poking him. "Listen."

He lifted his head and did what she told him. "Is that ..."

"A baby crying," she confirmed, a wide smile blooming on her face.

"You mean –"

"Help me up."

---

Everyone was gathered around the medbed as they entered the infirmary, including the children. Freya immediately went to River, smoothing her sweat-ravaged hair from her forehead.

"You okay?" she asked softly.

"Shiny," the new mother said, smiling.

"They wouldn't let me be here, you know that, don't you?"

River nodded. "But you were. In here." She touched her temple.

"You're my ..." She paused, then went on, "You're a daughter to me, River."

The smile grew wider, brighter. "I know. Mother."

Freya laughed. "God, I feel old."

"No," River assured her. "We're all young. Look." She nodded towards where Jayne was standing, his son in his arms, an odd look on his face.

"He's healthy?" Zoe asked, peering into the blanket.

Jayne seemed almost affronted. "He's a Cobb. Course he is."

"I was asking Simon."

"He is," Simon agreed. "Everything present and correct."

"Did you have to ..." Mal didn't know how to finish the sentence.

"No. No caesarean," Simon said tiredly. "My nephew was born quite naturally."

"My son," Jayne amended, looking down at the bundle in his arms.

"You know, he looks like you," Hank said. "If you were smaller. And didn't have the face fur. Or the attitude."

"Honey," Zoe warned.

"What?" He looked at her. "I was just saying –"

"I know. But you know what we talked about thinking before opening your mouth?"

"Oh. Right."

"I don't know how she managed it," Simon went on. "He's over ten pounds, and River's ..." He shook his head in disbelief.

"Determined?" Mal suggested.

"Other words actually spring to mind."

"So?" Kaylee said, almost vibrating. "What's his name?"

"No idea," Simon admitted.

All eyes turned to Jayne.

"Well?" Mal asked. "Or you gonna make me beg?"

"His name's Caleb."

Mal started a little. "Caleb?"

Jayne shrugged a little. "I know you had an uncle by that name, so I hope you don't ... it's just a good name."

"That it is."

"I like it," River said from the bed, and Jayne crossed to her, placing her son in her arms. "Caleb Francis."

"Not Jayne junior?" Hank teased.

"Dear."

"Ain't gonna kill him today, Zoe," Jayne promised. "Tomorrow, though ..."

Hank took a surreptitious step behind his wife.


End file.
